Think Of Me As Your Friend
by satanslut
Summary: *Set in Season Six* After finding out about Buffy and Spike, Willow sets out to give Spike what he really needs...friendship.
1. Chapter 1

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter One)

Willow watched, horrified, as Spike and Buffy… It wasn't making love, that was for sure. It was screwing, fucking…something animal and almost violent. The look on Buffy's face, loathing and disgust intermingled with the lust that obviously brought her here… How could Spike stand it?

She didn't stop to think about why she was more concerned with the way Spike must be feeling than about what was driving her best friend to have sex in an alley with someone she professed to despise. Instead she made sure she remained well-hidden as she waited for them to finish. The last thing she wanted was for them to discover that she was here.

Moans and groans and grunts that would have embarrassed her if she hadn't been so horrified filled her ears as she turned away. Once they were done, she figured they'd leave and then so could she and no one would be the wiser…except for her. She'd never forget this.

A strangled cry told her that at least one of them had gotten where they wanted to go – and that someone would be Buffy. She peered cautiously at the couple.

"I have to get back to work. I'll meet you later tonight." Buffy was straightening her uniform and hustling into the building through the back door. Spike stared at it as it closed after her. Just stared as if he was watching a ship sail away, carrying something he wanted more than anything in the world. If you could hear the sound of a heart breaking, Willow thought his might be deafening.

Her legs were cramping as she crouched behind the trash cans. Was Spike ever going to leave?

"Might as well come out, Red. I know you're there."

Uh oh. This was not going to be good. Slowly, she stood up. "I was just looking for Buffy and I…"

"Figured that out. Not like she's told any of you lot her dirty little secret, now has she? Especially not you." He almost spat the last words and even though Willow understood that he was lashing out, what he said still hurt – because it was true. She'd be the last person Buffy would tell her secrets to now…maybe forever.

"I'm sorry," Willow said, turning to leave.

"What are you sorry for?" His voice stopped her. It would be rude to ignore him. But she wasn't sure he wanted to hear her answer.

"I'm sorry she doesn't… That she doesn't feel what you do."

Spike said nothing – or at least not before she walked away. She didn't want to talk to Buffy. Not anymore.

* * *

Willow lay in bed and tossed and turned, nothing new – kicking magic played hell with her ability to sleep. This time, though, it wasn't the thrum of unused power beckoning her to cast just one little spell that kept her awake; it was the memories of what she'd seen in that alley. Closing her eyes as tight as she could didn't banish the vision of Buffy's contempt for the man she was letting into her body…or of the way Spike had looked at that door as if it barred the way to paradise.

It hurt when the one you loved didn't love you back; Willow knew that very well.

She shifted again, trying in vain to find that perfect position of her body which would align her with some sort of peaceful energy.

How had everything gone so horribly wrong? Bringing Buffy back was supposed to make everything better, but instead…

The road to this hell they were all living in was paved with Willow's good intentions, wasn't it?

She twisted and turned some more, but to no avail. Sleep never came.

When morning light came pouring through her window, Willow finally gave up and rolled out of bed. No point in trying anymore. Besides, she had breakfast to make for a girl who didn't talk to her and a house to clean that was no longer a home.

* * *

It was afternoon when she decided to do…something. No, she guessed there was no way to really make things better for Spike, to truly right the wrongs she'd managed to unwittingly do him, but she could at least try…maybe to be his friend? Besides, anything was better staying here and running the risk of facing Buffy. She didn't think she could bear to talk to her right now, and not before she'd gotten a whole lot of sleep.

So, without pausing to consider the fact that, given her recent track record, doing this might make things worse somehow, she grabbed her purse and headed over to Willie's. Her overtures of friendship would probably be more welcome if accompanied by some human blood, right?

It was a longer walk than she remembered, or maybe she was just tired and that made it seem more of an arduous trek. Whatever the reason, it wasn't like the old days – the old days when a visit to Willie's was part of helping Buffy fight evil. Now…well, now Willow was barely a step above the evil they fought, wasn't she? Now she was trusted with nothing more important than household chores.

But how could she blame her friends? She _had_ gone off the deep end with her magic…and she had been the one who'd ripped Buffy out of the happiness she'd found in Heaven.

Thinking of that, Willow wondered: Should she be going to Spike? Shouldn't she be more understanding of what Buffy was going through? Buffy was hurting – badly – and was it really fair to hold her accountable?

Even as she thought it, though, she knew it was wrong. Okay, Buffy had been ripped out of Heaven and that was awful but… She had friends, family, people who loved her, people who would do anything for her – yet she asked for nothing, even rejected love and friendship when it was offered.

Spike, though – he had no one. All he had was a love for Buffy that was all-consuming, a love Buffy seemed willing to use but not return. It wasn't right. No matter what, it wasn't right to treat someone the way she'd treated Spike in the alley – especially since it was so obviously a routine.

Willow's mind kept flashing back to the way Spike had stared at that door. The longing and the anguish and the love that had radiated from him in waves stronger than the magic that pulled at her gut. Tara had looked at her like that once – the night she'd gone to her room to tell her that Oz was gone and she belonged to Tara alone. Maybe that was the reason that it was Spike's pain ultimately that called to her more.

It didn't matter why, though, really, did it? Because her choice was made. Here she was at the dingy door that led to Sunnydale's very own demon bar – a low rent alternative to the Bronze for the otherworldly folks who called the Hellmouth home. Time to go inside, pick up some take-out, and then head over to Spike's crypt.

The more she thought about this, the more determined she was. All she had to do was recall Spike's pain. Whether he realized it or not, he needed a friend. And yeah, maybe he deserved better than Willow, but she was what was on offer and she was going to do the very best she could.

Tbc…


	2. Chapter 2

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Two)

So here she was, standing at Spike's door, blood in hand, and nervous almost to the point of being terrified. It wasn't that Willow was afraid of Spike hurting her…okay, yeah she was. Oh, not physically, of course. But there were all kinds of weapons and there were any number that the chip could do nothing to stop him from using; she was definitely afraid of those.

Still, she'd spent a good amount of money on this blood and there wasn't anything she could do with it (okay, there were spells, but she didn't do that anymore), so there was nothing to be done but knock. Which she did.

"Come in already." Spike sounded both annoyed and disinterested, which did nothing to put her at ease, but she opened the door and carried her bag inside. "I was wondering when the bloody hell you were gonna make up your mind," he said from the shadows as she entered.

"Sorry." She stood, holding the bag, feeling embarrassed and awkward, fidgeting – exactly like the girl she used to be in high school…the girl she'd been trying not to be ever since…the girl magic had been supposed to banish forever.

That last insight hit her like a slap in the face and the bag slid out of her fingers and down to the floor. That shook her out of her reverie – maybe too soon, but it did and that was that. "Oh gosh!" She reached down and grabbed the bag, glad to see that none of the bags of blood it contained had burst. "Phew." Holding the bag out to Spike, who was slouching in the corner, simply staring sullenly at her, she said, "Here. This is for you."

"It's blood. Human," she added when he made no move to take her offering.

"I know. Can smell it, can't I?" But he still didn't take it.

This had been a very bad idea; she realized that now. Setting the bag back on the ground, gently this time, she said, "Okay, I'll just leave this here and you can do whatever you want with it." But before she reached the door, she felt a hand on her arm.

This time, he was the one who apologized. "'M sorry." The words were mumbled and it was obvious it had cost him something to say them. That reminded her of why she was here…and showed her better than anything else could just how much of his pride whatever was going on with Buffy had already taken from him.

She turned and faced him again. "It's okay. I mean it's not like you were expecting me or anything."

"That's so," he agreed. He looked her over – not the way a man looked at a woman, but as if he was sizing her up, trying to figure her out.

"I just sort of thought…you know, after last night…" Oh goddess. The look on his face told her she'd said the wrong thing.

"Don't want your pity." His eyes were storm clouds as he spat out the words.

She hastened to undo the damage. "It's not pity. I swear. I just thought…"

"Thought what? That the poor, pathetic vampire needed help getting blood for himself?"

Spike was stubborn and angry and he was not making this easy for Willow at all. For a moment she thought of just walking out, of letting him think what he wanted. But then she remembered the alley…

It made sense for him to be angry and defensive. Look what he was enduring. And wasn't that largely her fault anyway? Wasn't it up to her to fix what the girl she'd ripped out of Heaven had broken? Didn't she owe it to Spike to keep trying? "I don't think you're pathetic. I just thought maybe you could use a friend, that's all."

She did her best to hide the pain she felt when the first sound she heard in response was a short bark of laughter. "You wanna be my friend, little witch? Gonna do some more spells on me?"

All right. She deserved that. Didn't make it hurt any less, though. "I'm really sorry about that. I know you don't believe me, and I guess I understand that, but… Yes, I want to be your friend." Drawing a deep breath and opening a vein containing what was more precious than her blood, she added, "I know you deserve better, but I'm here and… I want to help. But if you tell me to go, I will and I won't come back. I promise."

The silence roared in her ears, but just as she was about to take it for the sign that she wasn't wanted here, she heard him speak. "Might as well stay, I s'pose." He motioned for her to find a place to sit and she perched atop one of the coffins. No sense being squeamish, was there? Especially since it would be really rude to insult the home of someone when you were trying to be their friend.

"Thanks."

Of course, now that she was here, and sort of welcome, Willow had no idea what to say. 'Sorry my best friend is using you as a sex toy' seemed harsh and 'How 'bout those Mets?' only worked when you actually knew something about sports. Her fondness for sporting events had begun and ended with the Sunnydale High teams…and even then, it had been more about forcing herself to partake of those high school rites of passage her mother had assured her were essential to her proper social development.

Her thoughts were wandering the way they always did when she was uncomfortable or nervous and she struggled to bring herself back to the here and now. Come to think of it, wasn't it actually his turn to say something? He wasn't going to, though, was he? Okay, that meant she was going to have to say something else. And yeah, neither of the two things she'd thought of would work at all. "Are you okay?"

"Be careful there, Red. A bloke might think you actually cared." Sarcasm again. She steeled herself by remembering that he'd had the chance to throw her out and refused it.

"I do."

He was staring again and she remembered that he could see far better than she could in the dim light. She hoped that meant he could see the truth reflected in her eyes. Maybe he could. He shrugged and sat in the chair by the television. "Does she know you're here?"

Willow couldn't tell what he hoped the answer would be, but she gave him the truth. "No. I haven't talked to her, so she doesn't even know that I know about…"

"That we're shagging?"

"Yeah."

"Why didn't you say anything? Woulda thought that would have been the first thing you did when she got home. And don't tell me you were asleep when she made it back. You haven't slept in days."

The last words were the ones that knocked the wind out of her. Of all the people to notice… But she let it go. Maybe she'd think about it later, but right now was about Spike. "I don't want to talk to her. I'm too angry."

"What. 'Cause she didn't tell ya?"

He didn't get it. "Because of how she was looking at you…like you were beneath her."

The moment she said those last words… Spike leapt from the chair. "Get out!" he roared. "Get the fuck out of here!"

His anger ringing in her ears, she did just that – racing out the door as fast as she could. This had been a mistake. She could never do anything right.

Tbc…


	3. Chapter 3

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Three)

Three days had passed since Willow had been sent running from Spike's crypt. They had been tense days; she still hadn't been able to bring herself to hold a conversation with Buffy. After all, even if Spike hated her, that didn't mean she'd stopped thinking that what Buffy was doing to him was wrong.

She sat in the Magic Box, looking up something – she'd already forgotten what – on her laptop and doing everything she could to keep her eyes from wandering over to the shelves chock full of herbs and stones and oils and… Why was she even here? Why did anyone think it was a good idea for a magic-junkie to be in a magic shop?

But here she was, waiting for Xander and Buffy to arrive. Research…ah, research. More pointless stumbling in the dark trying to figure out what Warren and Jonathan and Andrew were up to – a task that was proving to be way harder than it should have been. She'd gone to school all her life with those dorks and they weren't exactly complex. They were the kind of geeks who gave geeks a bad name.

"Hullo, Red." The voice behind her startled her and she almost jumped out of her chair.

"Spike." She turned around in her seat and faced him. More surprising than him being here was the fact that he was talking to her.

"Can we talk?" he asked, tilting his head toward the back room.

Considering the way their last 'talk' went, Willow wasn't sure this was such a great idea, but she nodded, and – ignoring the very strange look Anya gave her – she followed Spike to the back room.

He closed the door and Willow tensed, waiting for him to yell at her or something. When he didn't, she took the opportunity and said, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"

"I know," he interrupted. "I'm not angry. Not with you." What he said sounded as close to an apology as she could possibly imagine from Spike and she was caught off-guard by it.

"I really didn't mean to hurt your feelings," she added, not sure she'd been reading him right.

"Bloody hell, pet. You're not one to leave a thing alone, are ya?" He chuckled as he said it and she had the uncomfortable feeling he was laughing at her. There wasn't much she hated more than being mocked.

"Well. I'm glad we got everything cleared up. I guess I'll go back and do some more research."

But just as she turned to leave, she felt his hand on her arm. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing." Her voice was brisk and she plastered on a smile.

That had been enough to content everyone lately, but Spike didn't seem to be everyone. "I wasn't laughing at you."

Her eyes went wide with surprise before she could control herself. How had he known?

His eyes were locked on hers. "Know we haven't been exactly mates, but I pay attention, y'know. Vampire and all. It's kind of a predator thing. Knowin' yer enemies and all that."

Now Willow was the one who chuckled, though she wasn't sure why. Maybe it was because it felt good to have someone openly admit the truth – Willow was the enemy now, the bad witch whose relapse into the evils of magic everyone feared though no one said it.

"Whatcha thinking?" he asked when seconds ticked by and she said nothing.

Oddly, she responded with the absolute truth. "I was thinking it was about time someone said it."

"Said what?"

"That I'm the enemy."

Of all the things she could imagine happening, what happened next was not among them. Spike pulled her into a hug. "You're not the enemy, pet." He sounded sincere, and that just sharpened the lie.

There wasn't time to say anything though; a moment later he all but shoved her away. What was about to hurt very badly was explained when the door opened and Xander was there.

"Oh." Xander acted as if he was surprised to find her back here, a reaction made all the stranger by his next words. "Anya said you were back here."

"Guessing you need me back manning my trusty laptop," Willow said, oddly disinterested in explaining what clearly had Xander confused – her being back here with Spike.

"We'll finish this later," Spike said as she followed Xander out the door.

A nod was her answer, but it served.

"What was that about?" Xander asked a moment later. And again her reply was silent, but the shrug meant so much less. By this time, though, they were in the middle of the store and Buffy and Dawn were there. Xander had no chance to ask his question again. It was a good thing. She had no answers to give him – at least none that she wanted to, anyway.

"So… What are we looking for?"

It was night, and a dark night at that, but Willow felt oddly restless. Maybe it was that conversation with Spike. Whatever the reason, Dawn was at a friend's house and here she was – foolishly wandering the streets without even a stake. Did she have a death wish? Could be.

One thing was sure: If she died, no one would be looking to resurrect _her_.

Self-pity… Another failing to add to the list of habits to kick. It was going to have to wait its turn.

"Just the girl I was looking for."

Willow clutched her chest and whirled around. "Spike! You scared me."

The smile he wore in response was probably worth the near-heart attack. For all the complications of their earlier encounter, she still felt for him. He deserved something in return for everything Buffy was putting him through, something to remind him of the Big Bad he'd once been so proud to be.

"Did I now?" He played it cool, but the smile was still teasing the corners of his mouth.

"Why were you looking for me?" What she meant was 'Why aren't you with Buffy?' After all, it wasn't as if he was going to give her up – Willow remembered the way he'd looked at her today in The Magic Box…it was almost as poignant, if more surreptitious, then the way he'd gazed at that door a few days ago.

"Said we'd finish our chat, didn't I?"

Okay. She'd been mulling over that and she'd come to the conclusion he'd said it to dig at Xander. Guess she was wrong. Wow. That was sure new. Not like she'd been wrong lately – except about everything. "What did you want to talk about?"

Now he was the one who looked confused, as if he was groping in the dark for something to say. "The blood was amazing, pet. Thanks for that."

"Oh." What was she supposed to say? All she'd done was tell Willie she wanted human blood. She'd sort of figured he'd given her the dregs and made her pay through the nose for it. Guess that was another thing she got wrong. "I'm glad."

"Nice to have a spot of the real thing, I'll tell ya. That pig swill will keep you existing, but that's about it. No flavour…no _life_."

You know, she should probably find it creepy that she and Spike were standing here discussing the joys of drinking human blood. But then again, she had a feeling there was more he was trying to tell her, underneath the words.

"I'll see if I can get you some more, okay?"

But Spike obviously sensed something she couldn't. Before she even finished her question, he was gone.

Chasing his dream.

Buffy was nearby.

Willow sighed and headed back to Buffy's house – Buffy's empty house. What had Spike wanted to talk to her about, anyway?

Tbc…


	4. Chapter 4

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Four)

There had been a time when it would have been hard to avoid a conversation with Buffy, especially with the two of them living in the same house. But now was not that time, a fact which didn't make Willow any sadder today than it did the morning after she'd seen Spike and Buffy rutting in the alley.

She observed Buffy these days, though – in a way she never had before – watching the way she moved, listening to her as she mumbled under her breath, paying attention to nuances. Buffy wasn't herself now, and it wasn't as if she was the way she'd been after the Master had killed her. No, this was something very different. Something was missing, something important. Willow wished she knew what it was. All she knew was that it was her fault that it wasn't there.

Was Spike okay? Had he held on to any part of his pride after another night with Buffy? That was another question, wasn't it? One more thing to worry about.

"Did you remember your homework?" Willow asked as she handed Dawn her lunch. The answer was a huff and an exaggerated roll of the eyes – pretty much the usual. Nope, Willow had not been forgiven. "Come right home after school," she called out as the front door slammed.

Right at the same moment, Buffy came down the stairs, bleary and out of sorts – though the out of sorts part was just a guess. Buffy was always blank and sullen now, even when she smiled. Willow found herself missing the Buffybot; somehow the robot had been more real than the real thing…at least the real thing living here today.

"I have to go to the supermarket," Willow said, not wanting to see any more of her handiwork. "I'll be back in a little while."

There was a bruise on Buffy's thigh where her robe gapped open. It didn't look like a slaying injury. Willow filed it away for later thought. "'Kay," Buffy said absently, so many seconds after Willow's statement that Willow wondered if it was a response at all. Had she even heard what Willow said? It didn't much matter, did it? Willow grabbed her purse from where it hung in the entry and bounded out the door. Hopefully, she'd remember to stop by the store and buy some things in case Buffy had actually been listening to her.

But first things first – she was going to check on Spike.

* * *

Instead of heading straight for the crypt, Willow decided a stop at Willie's was in order. Spike said the blood she got him was really good; he'd probably like more. So that's what she did.

Bags of blood now in hand, she trekked back towards Spike's place. Only in Sunnydale could you walk down the street with a sack of human blood and not feel all that strange…or worry about what would happen if the police stopped you, for that matter. Any lame excuse would suffice – that was an eternal and unchanging truth: PCP gangs and more barbecue fork fatalities per month than had been recorded in the rest of the world since the birth of Weber.

Her thoughts were distracting enough that she was actually surprised to find herself at the door to the crypt. Boy that was fast. Less tentatively than the first time, she knocked on the door.

"Come in, Red." The hostility from the last visit was entirely absent. That was good. It was actually a really nice change from breakfast with Dawn.

"Hey" was all she could think of to say as she walked in, but she added a smile and hoped it was enough. There were candles and enough light for her to see that Buffy wasn't the only one with bruises. The questions kept on stockpiling. "Here," she said after a long moment, simultaneously holding out the bag she was carrying. "I brought you some more blood."

He stared – no, it was something more than that. He was sizing her up again, much as he had the first time she'd come here; taking her measure. She was reminded of what he'd said yesterday at the Magic Box. Was she the enemy now after all? "What are you here for, witch?" His tone had turned wary, guarded – it seemed to confirm her theory.

"Just thought you'd like some more blood." She shrugged in an 'aw shucks' sort of way, drawing on the girl she used to be.

His eyes narrowed but he simply said, "Thanks," and took the bag from her outstretched hand.

"I hope it's the same stuff as last time."

"Figure it will be. They're all afraid of you in there."

What? Spike's words knocked Willow back. Why would anyone at Willie's be afraid of her?

Her confusion must have shone from her face. "You gave a vampire back his soul and went toe-to-toe with a god without breaking a nail. Word gets around." He was the one who shrugged this time before heading over to his mini-fridge and stowing the blood.

"Oh." She didn't know what else to say. How did she even feel about this? Funny – she'd always thought being feared by the bad guys would be a powerful feeling; a wonderful feeling. It wasn't like that at all. It felt uncomfortably close to what it was like being feared by her friends...and the girl she loved.

"Don't worry. I know you're not the Big Bad."

Spike startled her again with the way he knew what frightened her. It made her realize just how dangerous he was – how lucky they all were that he hadn't killed them long ago. If he'd had the patience then that the chip had given him now… 'For want of a nail', wasn't that how the old song went?

"How did things go last night?" she blurted out. When in doubt, always say the wrong thing – that was the story of her life.

Only this time maybe she hadn't gone so wrong, at least not wrong enough to make him angry like last time. "Found her. Came back here." Willow knew who 'her' was and she was almost flattered that Spike took that for granted. Was he relieved that she knew?

Then she said something that surprised her. "I thought maybe you guys fought something together. She's got bruises. So do you."

Spike chuckled mirthlessly. "Guess you've led a sheltered life. We did quite a bit together last night…but we weren't fighting anything."

Willow's eyes shot wide, but she had the oddest feeling that she knew something – a something that couldn't be true. "But…bruises. You have the chip…right?"

"Yeah." He was staring at her in that strange way again. "I can hurt her. Since she came back. I can hurt her without so much as a twinge from that wretched piece of technology in my head. Can do anything I want to her…anything _she_ wants." He kept staring and Willow felt herself crumbling under the assault of those eyes and his words. "Says it makes her 'feel'. Likes it rough and hard. That's all she wants, you know – something to make her feel. Guess she doesn't much care about what the rest of us feel."

He was still talking, but Willow barely heard him. For the second time, Spike's words sent her running from the crypt. She got only a few feet before she collapsed against a headstone, sobbing and barely able to breathe.

It was true – and so much worse than she'd let herself think. Buffy was…wrong. She'd come back wrong. Willow had known that, but she hadn't known just how very wrong Buffy _was_. Now that she did…

Her thoughts were disorganized and chaotic and it was a long time before she got up to go home.

She forgot to stop at the market. Guess it didn't matter. Buffy didn't notice anyway.

Tbc…


	5. Chapter 5

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Five)

Willow could have sworn that the knowledge she had and the guilt she felt surrounded her like a neon rainbow, but no one noticed – not Buffy, not Dawn, not even Xander. Funny how that didn't make things better. Maybe because it hurt that she could be going through so much and no one noticed at all.

Don't think about that. Don't think about anything.

It wasn't like thinking was her friend these days; every thought in her head was causing her pain.

But self-pity…that was wrong, wasn't it? Because however much she was hurting over this, Spike was hurting much more – and for all her good intentions, she hadn't proven to be a very good friend. Look at the way she'd run out of his crypt. Was there ever going to be a time when she didn't get it wrong?

And of course avoiding him these last two days helped so much.

Deciding to bite the bullet and hoping she could fix what was probably broken beyond repair, she headed back to Spike's crypt. She didn't stop for blood – that always seemed to presage her running from the crypt in tears. She was a Hellmouth girl and she believed in omens.

Knocking on the door produced no response and she thought maybe she ought to leave, but even as she was about to, she found herself opening the door. Surprising herself – how had that happened? "Spike?" she called out softly as her eyes struggled to adjust to the dim light. "Are you there?"

"'Course I'm here. Where the hell did ya think I'd be – out sunbathing?" His speech was slurred and Willow realized with a pang that drinking had started early today. "Nice of you to drop by. Now get out. Thought you would have got the hint when I didn't invite you in. You're not wanted here."

Running out had hurt him more than she'd realized. "I'm sorry. It wasn't… I didn't… I felt guilty, okay? That's why I ran out of here. Because Buffy came back wrong and it's my fault."

"Yeah. It is."

It was plain and it was true and there was no equivocation mixed in with it to mask the taste as it went down. So why did she find it funny? Hilarious even? So much so that she began to laugh?

But laugh she did, and Spike just stared, standing up unsteadily as he did, until she stopped. "What's so funny?" he asked, the edge of anger in his voice dissipating the last of her mirth.

"It's just… No one's ever completely honest with me, you know?"

His anger seemed to go the way of her laughter and he walked towards her – deliberate steps and more sober than she expected. "You don't think people are givin' it to you straight?"

"You know they aren't," she responded, almost challenging.

"No. I s'pose you're right on that score," he agreed. Was she glad or sorry that he didn't make her say out loud exactly what she knew she wasn't being told? "Want something to drink?" he asked, and this time she wondered if _she_ was being challenged.

"Nah. It's kind of early for me."

He laughed – a short bark of a sound. "You know what they say: It's five o'clock somewhere in the world." He went back to the chair he'd been sitting in and reached behind it, retrieving a half-full bottle of… something – Willow couldn't tell what in this light. "Bottoms up," he offered, before downing a Viking-like swallow.

It was painful to watch him. He seemed even sadder and more lost than when he'd kidnapped her. Did he love Buffy more than he'd loved Drusilla? Willow wondered about that, too…and she knew that not even the chance to win Tara back would induce her to ask.

Tara… someone who, unlike Spike, wasn't being honest with her. "She's not coming back," Willow said to the air, tasting the ash and bitterness of each word as she allowed her fear to become solid and true as it turned into sound.

Inebriated or no, Spike heard and knew immediately who she meant. Not the first time his acuity had unnerved her. "You don't know that." He stared at her for a long moment. "Guess you do at that. Sorry." He sat down on what had once been a couch and patted the space next to him. She accepted the invitation.

Once she was there, though, the intimacy was discomfiting. Spike appeared to feel it, too. "So…the other night."

"I'm really sorry," she apologized again. "I should have come back before this. I should have explained."

"Yeah," he said; honest again. Funny how she liked it. Maybe because even as he gave it to her straight, he didn't seem like he was going anywhere. She'd never felt okay about making mistakes before, about being something other than perfect. If she stayed… Getting used to this would be bad, wouldn't it? But she couldn't leave. Once was a mistake, twice was callousness.

"Buffy wasn't here last night, was she?" The minute the words were spoken, she hated herself. Would Spike think she was lashing out at him? She put her hand on his shoulder and hoped he could see that what was in her eyes wasn't malice.

"No." He didn't look away and that was a gift.

"She should love you, you know. I mean, it's really obvi… I… You love her. A lot. And she should love you back." Nice job of stumbling there, Willow.

Spike let out a short, mirthless laugh. It was a painful sound. "I'm just a demon, pet. My feelings don't mean much."

"That's not true!" she all but cried out. It hurt to hear him say that, not the least of which because she knew he meant it.

"A vampire? Why the hell should she love me?"

Was that the whiskey talking? What had Buffy done to him? "She loved…" Willow stopped, knowing that she'd already said too much and wishing she could take it back.

Spike did his best to laugh it off. His pride was a desperate thing. "Not really a proper vampire now is he? All that poofy hair gel and faffing about helping the helpless."

"No. I guess he's not." Willow was desperate now, too, and she warmed to the game. "And I'm also guessing the brooding thing isn't really all that demon-y." She wrinkled her face in scorn.

"Never fancied him, did you?" Spike turned his body to face her, his eyes unexpectedly shrewd, searching for something. "No schoolgirl crush on your best friend's dashing beau?"

"Angel? Gosh no!" And there was no prevarication in those words at all.

"You really didn't." He seemed surprised at that, but he believed her and she thought maybe she'd finally gotten something right.

She snorted. "So not my type."

This time there was humour in Spike's chuckle and he turned to sit back against the couch…putting his arm around her shoulders. "You've got taste. I'll give you credit for that."

"Even though I had a crush on Xander?" she asked impishly.

"Don't go ruining your reputation there. I was starting to form a high opinion of you."

There was more mild laughter and then silence. Guess neither one of them wanted to ruin a fragile, light moment. A few more seconds of quiet and Spike finally said. "Wanna watch some telly? _Passions_ is on now."

"Sure." She relaxed as Spike turned on the TV.

They didn't talk at all while the show was on, not even during the commercials. And somehow it was better than any conversation she'd had with Buffy or Xander lately.

When it was over, she left. No running this time and goodbyes were said. It seemed like she'd finally figured out how to be Spike's friend.

Tbc…


	6. Chapter 6

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Six)

She'd seen Tara today.

It hadn't gone well and Willow's chest was still tight with the tension and the pain.

She'd been right when she told Spike that Tara wasn't coming back; she wished she hadn't been, but wishing on a Hellmouth never worked out well, now did it?

There'd been a time when Tara had looked at her like she was the most wonderful, perfect thing in the whole world. Guess those days were as dusty as Jesse because the eyes she'd looked into today had been full of suspicion…and fear.

It seemed like Willie's wasn't the only place where everyone was afraid of her.

Maybe she needed to move back into her parents' house; stop pretending that she was ever going to make things right with her erstwhile friends.

Maybe she should just leave town.

What would she do out in the world? What would it be like to live in a place where no one had ever heard of a Fyarl demon and there weren't more cemeteries than pizza parlours? How would she fit in working a regular job and making small talk about football and reading books that weren't written in medieval French by a demon hunter who went stark raving mad?

Years ago, when she'd been feeling this down, she'd have gone to Xander, but he was one of _them_ now – the ones who looked at her and saw something bad and evil.

She shouldn't do this, she told herself as she grabbed a light jacket to stave off the chill of California autumn and magic withdrawal – her friendship with Spike was supposed to be about her helping _him_ – but she walked out the door and headed for the crypt anyway. Besides, it wasn't like she was really going to unload on him or anything; all she was going to do was…well…

Okay, she admitted it: she was weak and needy and desperate for a shoulder to cry on.

So yes, here she was - on her way to Spike's crypt. Only this time she was bringing neither blood nor comfort. At least twenty times along the way she told herself to turn back, but she didn't. There was that weak and needy thing.

All too soon she arrived and couldn't stop herself from knocking on the door. "C'mon in, Red," a familiar voice called out, and so she did.

It was easier somehow this time for her eyes to adjust to the dim light. "Hey," she said, afraid he could tell why she was here before she'd said a thing about it.

Perhaps he could. "You look like hell, pet."

She shrugged and decided to play the thing off as a joke. "As opposed to my usual stunning beauty?"

He wasn't laughing, though. He lit a couple of candles and she could see the angry look on his face…along with a fading bruise.

"You saw her last night," she blurted out before she could stop herself.

Now he laughed. "You know the game." He was the one who shrugged this time.

And now she was the one who was angry. "There shouldn't _be_ a game. Love should just be…"

"What?" he sneered. "Hearts and flowers and dulcet choirs of pretty little birdies?" The last words struck Willow strangely and she knew she should remember them…she'd heard them somewhere before. But before she could place them, Spike continued. "Love isn't like that. It's pain and it's heartache and it takes everything you have, but it's…it's everything." He wasn't sneering now. In fact, the look on his face… There was something childlike in his eyes, as if he were a boy begging her to tell him that Santa would really be there on Christmas morning if he were just good enough.

She couldn't; but she didn't tell him the truth either. She went to him and took his hand. "I'm sorry," she offered.

"'S okay," he replied, his voice soft and distant. And then he replied to the words she hadn't said. "You're right, you know. She's never gonna love me. I already knew that, I guess, but it doesn't seem to stick. Can't blame a bloke for supposing things might be different…especially when she's in my bed, but…" He looked into her eyes, searching again. "I'm not the only lonely one, am I?"

"I saw Tara today." That was all she said, but it told the whole story, she supposed. A second later, Spike had his arms around her and she burst into tears.

"There, there now," he said. "Glinda just doesn't know what she's missing, that's all."

"She's afraid of me," Willow whimpered.

"'Course she is. Witch as powerful as you. I'll bet she was afraid of you long before you got into trouble with that Rack bastard."

Later, Willow would marvel that he didn't chide her once more for what she did to Dawn, but now all she could do was ask, "What do you mean?"

Spike snorted as she stepped back from him, looking into his eyes for the punchline to a joke it suddenly seemed he hadn't told after all. "You really don't get it, do you? Even now, even knowing that the demons in this town are more scared of you than they are of…" He started pacing. "You have it – this power that could destroy us all if you wanted. Why the devil do you think I wanted to sire you? All these years and I've never made a childe. Never wanted to. Not 'til you. I wanted to be the one to control that. Together we could have turned the whole bloody world upside down, changed the order of things, made Angelus crawl…" He stopped, knowing he'd exposed something to her as soft and pink and vulnerable as the love he let Buffy spit on whenever she liked.

Willow cuddled it to her heart and cherished it. "I would, you know. If you really wanted me to." She knew he'd know what she was referring to and she hoped he could see that she meant it.

That stare, yet again. He walked back towards her slowly, his eyes turning to pools of wonder with each step. "You would, wouldn't you? All that cold turkey and groveling and doing without and you'd throw it all away if I asked you to turn the Poof into some circus poodle."

She nodded.

"Why? Why would you do that for me?"

What could she say? "You're my friend, Spike."

With that, she was in his arms again – and he was the one who was crying.

Tbc…


	7. Chapter 7

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Seven)

Riley was gone. Sam was gone.

Did Willow feel guilty for all the faux bonhomie at the airport with the exchange of email addresses and everything? Not really, because she wasn't sure she _didn't_ hate Sam. Not because she was Riley's wife, but because she'd been…patronizing – all that treacly 'admiration' for her efforts at staying off the magic. She reminded Willow of that bitch at the 12 Step meeting who always fawned over the newbies. Maybe it would have seemed sincere, even comforting, if she hadn't gotten used to the real thing from Spike. But now…now it was more like those times when Cordelia had been nice to her when she wanted a favor.

What worried her now, though, and a lot more than Riley's fem-bot wife, was what was going on with Spike. What he'd been doing with those eggs was wrong, but unlike everyone else – except maybe Dawn – Willow wanted to understand. To listen to him. To find out what would make him do something so…no, not evil…_stupid_.

Which meant going to the crypt – Spike's now barely-habitable home.

The route was so familiar now that she barely noticed walking it and she got there before she even had time to think. This time, she didn't knock. Perhaps she was afraid he would tell her to go away and then she'd feel honour bound to do just that.

Making her way through the shambles, she headed down to the worst of it – Spike's bedroom. He was there. "Are you okay?" she asked, not bothering with even saying hello.

"Red." He didn't answer her question, but at least he was acknowledging her presence.

"Need some help?"

"Nah," he said, belying the debris he had obviously been clearing away. "Kinda like it like this. Reminds me of the Blitz. Good hunting to be had in those days, the blackout and all."

There was a time when she'd have asked him about that, but now was not the time for tangents. "Are you okay?" she asked again. There was a thin edge of…something in his voice and it worried her.

"You're not gonna ask me about the demon eggs?" he prodded.

"No," she responded, surprising herself. But even though that had been her intent when she came here, she realized…he was her friend. If he did it, he had a reason and he'd tell her if it was any of her business or if he wanted to, but…

"You're an odd one, pet." The words had a strange note of affection.

She gave him a quirk of the lips that she hoped looked like a smile. "I get that a lot."

He shook his head and chuckled mirthlessly. "You don't get much of anything."

It was a well-placed shot and it hurt. Spike's barbs always did; he knew what he was doing and he never wasted a word. "No, I guess I don't," she said, choking down the urge to fight back. She would never use the one weapon she had.

Funny how that seemed to make him angry. "What is it with you? You come here selling friendship like it's truth and sunshine and puppies and a bloke can't bloody get rid of you!"

"Do you want me to go?" Her eyes were wide and she could feel the tears swimming like those goldfish she'd once owned.

She'd been sure of the answer, but she didn't get it. "Soldier Boy still around?" he asked.

It seemed like a _non sequitur_ but to Willow it was a clear invitation to stay and she was grateful. "No. He and his wife are gone."

"Good riddance," he snorted.

"Can't argue with that," she sighed softly without thinking.

There was a bark of laughter that startled her. "Good on you! Nice to see you've got your teeth back."

Willow wasn't sure what to say to that and there was a clumsy sort of silence for a few moments. He was giving her that searching look again and then he suddenly spoke. "She was here." No need for him to explain who 'she' was. "Not too long ago actually."

Now that part was a shock. Willow hadn't seen her. She wondered where Buffy had gone. But the look on Spike's face…that was a more immediate concern.

"She said it was over. Meant it this time, too." He was fighting hard to sound like he didn't care. Maybe he would have fooled someone else, but not Willow. Her heart ached for him.

"Maybe she'll change her mind," Willow offered, even as she wasn't sure that was good for Spike. It was what he wanted, so she wanted it for him.

He snorted. "She called me William, y'know. Right before she left. Said she was just using me – she was being weak and selfish and it was killing her and then she said, 'Goodbye, William.'" He couldn't hide the pain anymore; it was threaded sharply through every word like barbed wire.

All Willow could think about was one part of what had just been quoted just now: Killing her. Buffy had said it was killing _her._ Without thinking, Willow picked up a piece of the debris and threw it across the room. "Bitch!"

The look on Spike's face… On another day, at another time, it would have made her laugh. She'd never seen him so shocked. But right now she was caught up in her fury at her one-time best friend and it poured out of her mouth like acid. "You know, if she wanted to hurt me, that would be one thing. I ripped her out of Heaven, I hurt Dawn, I'd get it then. It would be okay, you know? But you? All you've done is love her and be there for her and… It's wrong! What she's done to you – it's wrong. And I hate her so much and I…" Her voice was strangled by tears now and she found herself in Spike's arms, sobbing uncontrollably. "Why did she do this to you?" Willow whimpered.

It took her a few moments and the return of some emotional control before she realized that the top of her head was damp. She wasn't the only one who was crying. "No one's ever cared like this – not for me." Spike's voice was a barely audible whisper and Willow wasn't sure she was supposed to hear him, so she said nothing. His next words were louder. "That bird of yours, she doesn't have a clue. What the hell kind of woman lets someone like you go?"

"The magic." Her voice was hiccupy and indistinct as she tried to advocate for Tara.

"Bosh!" Spike's voice mirrored her own anger of a few moments ago. "Saint Tara of the Secrets playing high and mighty. And after everything you did for her when the bint was stupid enough to get her mind sucked out… You're too good for her. I hope you know that." He let go of her, turning away. Was it to regain control? Had his eyes flashed gold or had she imagined it?

And what had he meant when he called Tara 'Saint Tara of the Secrets'?

She should ask.

She didn't want to know.

"She knows, you know. About Buffy and me. Saw us at Buffy's birthday party."

"Oh," Willow said. It occurred to her that Buffy hadn't been at all worried that Tara would tell anyone or she'd have probably said something first.

Buffy had known that Tara would keep her secrets.

Willow had been right - she didn't want to know this.

That was when the pain knocked her down.

Tbc...


	8. Chapter 8

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Eight)

Vampire reflexes… She guessed it was pretty good to have a friend who had them. Spike caught her just as her knees gave way.

"You all right there?"

She wanted to say yes, but instead she told the truth. "No. I guess I'm really not."

"Shouldn't have told you." His arm was still around her.

"Not telling me wouldn't mean she wasn't keeping secrets. It would just mean I didn't know about them. I think maybe it's better this way."

"You're something else, you know."

She gave a short laugh. "Yeah, something else. I just haven't figured out what that is."

He took her by the shoulders, shaking her once and forcing her to meet his eyes. "You're something special, Willow. Don't you let that lot tell you different. You're better than them. You hear me? You're better than all of them."

Who he meant by 'all of them' was something she wasn't going to ask. She was pretty sure Buffy wasn't included there. Besides, he was probably just saying it to make her feel better. It was nice of him, though, and she was grateful. Nobody had tried to soft soap her in a long time. Nobody thought she should feel better about anything.

She let him guide her upstairs. It was less of a disaster area. Seemed like Buffy had created a sort of a literal metaphor here – scratching the surface but causing the most damage down deep where Spike really lived…where _William_ really lived.

"I'd ask if _you're_ okay, but…"

"I'll get this mess cleaned up in no time." That wasn't what she meant and she figured he knew it, but she wasn't Buffy. She wasn't going to make him open a vein for her.

Suddenly she started to laugh and he stared, probably wondering if she was crazy. She caught her breath. After all, what she was thinking about wasn't all that funny, was it? Pathetic maybe, but not funny. "Everyone loves her. You do. I am pretty sure Xander still does, even though he's marrying Anya. Heck, for all I know, Tara does. So who are we kidding, right? I'm not better than her. I'm just some junkie."

Spike's eyes went gold and his words were strangled with anger. "You don't ever talk like that, you hear me? You're not some junkie. And you're sure as hell better than that bitch." His eyes bled back to blue and his tone softened. "I may love her, but I'm not blind. She's a cold, distant shadow of a thing. And don't you go blaming yourself for that. You did what you thought was right. What almost anyone would have wanted to do if they could, I'll wager."

He went to the couch and sat, patting the space beside him. She took the hint and sat down.

"She told me that she looked down from there and we were all doing fine." Willow's eyes widened in shock, but she let Spike continue. "She said that's what she saw up there. I don't know if that means the saints and angels are liars or if she wasn't where she thought she was or…" His voice broke slightly before he continued. "Or she just didn't think about us at all up there. But one thing I do know – you didn't do anything wrong. You didn't mean to anyway. 'Cause we weren't fine. None of us were fine."

It was all too much. Tara keeping secrets, Buffy's heaven a paradise of lies… Willow wasn't sure whether she should laugh or cry. She did neither, simply laying her head on Spike's shoulder and letting her eyes lose focus. Everything was shapes now and nothing was real. Could she please just stay here forever? Because reality was horrible.

Moments passed and Willow could feel Spike stroking her hair, she closed her eyes and got lost in the sensation. It was comforting and affectionate and it reminded her of better days…she just refused to think about who had been part of those better days. None of those people cared about her anymore. "Mmmm."

"She never wanted this." The words came out of nowhere and they weren't directed at her; somehow Willow could just tell. So she kept her eyes closed and said nothing. "Never wanted me to just hold her and be gentle. She said goodbye to William, but the truth is she was never with him. Not once. Not even once."

Willow's eyes stayed closed but tears slid out from beneath her eyelids all the same. It took a moment for her to realize that he'd moved…and in that moment Spike's lips touched hers. It was the softest kiss she'd ever known, over almost before it began. But it meant…it meant something. She opened her eyes. He put his finger to her lips before she could speak. "Wanted to know what it was like… Someone like you, you know? Don't be angry."

Angry? That was the last word she would ever think of to describe what she was feeling. Oz and Tara had made love to her and called her beautiful, Xander had cheated on Cordelia with her, and this kiss from Spike was the purest tribute she'd ever known as a woman. "Thank you," she said, as she reached out and stroked his cheek.

This time his were the eyes that closed as he leaned into her caress. Seconds passed and Spike opened his eyes, fixing them on hers so that she couldn't look away. "If I wasn't such a pathetic tosser…" Then he shook his head and stared into her eyes once more. "You listen to me, pet. She's not good enough for you, that bloody Glinda. You hold out for what you're worth, okay? Promise me you'll find someone who deserves you."

"I…" Her intent to argue the point with him got lost in his eyes. He was as serious as hellfire. So instead she answered, "I promise."

"See that you keep it." He got up and ran his hand through his hair. "I better get back to clearing away the wreckage if I ever want to get any sleep again."

"Want me to help?"

"Nah. Men's work, this. 'Sides, don't want you to get your clothes all dirty."

She got up from the couch. "I don't mind. Really."

"I know," he said as she smiled brightly to try and help sell the idea. "But I figure I ought to do this on my own."

"Okay," she agreed, trying not to feel abandoned. That wasn't fair, after all. She knew Spike had a lot to think about and he deserved some privacy. "See you later?"

"Count on it."

She made her exit, doing some thinking of her own as she wound her way through the sunlit cemetery. The kiss still echoed on her lips and she wasn't sure why. Spike wasn't the only one who needed some privacy and space to figure things out, that was for sure. Somehow, this solitary walk didn't feel like it would be enough.

The door to Buffy's house was in front of her in no time. Still locked. That meant no one was home. Which was good. Buffy was the last person Willow wanted to see right now…and probably for quite awhile. As she fished her key out of her pocket, an idea hit her. Maybe it was a bad idea, but she was used to those and she'd gone with every other bad idea she'd ever had, so why not this one?

Bounding up the stairs and into the room she laughably called hers, she threw some clothes into a bag, then grabbed her makeup, shampoo, and such from the bathroom. Spending a few days at her parents' place suddenly seemed like the right thing to do. It had to be better than staying here.

Tbc...


	9. Chapter 9

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Nine)

Willow hadn't left a note. She wasn't sure why; maybe she was hoping they just wouldn't notice she was gone. It could happen…right? Besides, leaving a note wouldn't have helped much. Now that she was here at her childhood home, she realized the can of worms she'd opened and what Buffy and Dawn and everyone else would be thinking about her: that this was all because she was doing magic again.

You know what? Let them think that. She was tired of jumping through hoops ringed with the fire of a distrust she was never going to extinguish. From now on, the choice to abstain from magic was about _her_, not about winning back Tara or her friends.

Funny how that decision gave her a feeling of power again – the first time she'd felt in control since…before she went to Rack, if she was honest with herself.

She headed back downstairs to scope out the kitchen and see if there was anything edible. Nope, but then again that had been a long shot, and frankly, she was glad the cupboards were bare. Had they not been, it would have meant that her parents had been back in town and not bothered to call her. Still, she was going to have to make a run to the grocery store. She checked the drawer next to the fridge. Luck was with her – Ira and Sheila had left the keys to their car.

* * *

Milk, soda, chips, some frozen dinners, cookies, lunch meat… Willow put away the groceries and chided herself for how little fresh food she'd bought. But she felt drained and sad and not inclined to cook. Eating needed to be as trouble free as possible or she'd probably just skip it. She'd made enough trouble for herself with her impulsive decision to leave Buffy's house.

Xander's wedding was taking place in a week and who knew if she'd be welcome now? She wouldn't miss that godawful dress Anya wanted her to wear, but – despite the faded and threadbare thing her friendship with Xander had become – she would be sad if she was excluded. Her fondness for him might be based more on nostalgia than substance, but it was no less real for all of that.

It was certainly more real than her friendship with Buffy.

What still didn't make sense to Willow was the jump from being pulled out of heaven to abusing Spike. Anger and bitterness – okay, she understood those things…but directed at _her_, not at Spike. And what Buffy had done today…the selfishness of what she'd said and the way she'd thrown Spike's humanity in his teeth, as if it was an abomination for him to love her. How could anyone spit on a gift like the heart he offered up to her?

She wondered if that was what happened when everyone loved you. Did it become a commonplace? Or was Buffy just so damaged by being brought back to life that…

No, she wasn't going to make excuses for Buffy. Not when Spike was in so much pain.

He had kissed her. It was the barest trace of a kiss and yet…it had thrown open the curtains of his heart, showing her everything he longed to share with Buffy. It was a banquet. How could anyone, no matter how damaged and bitter and angry, not look at it and marvel at it and accept it gratefully? If someone loved her like that…

But they didn't – they never would – and none of Spike's earnest pep talks about what she deserved would change that.

Wandering into the living room, she turned on the TV. What do you know? Her parents were still paying for the deluxe cable package. Anyone would think someone actually lived here…well, unless they noticed the layer of dust. Guess she couldn't really blame the maid for slacking. Or had her parents just let her go?

Instead of sitting down to watch television, she decided to do some housekeeping. Back to the kitchen she headed and then returned to the living room with furniture polish and dust cloths. She turned on the lamps to make sure she saw everything clearly and went to work with a will. Nothing like lemon Pledge and elbow grease to distract a girl from her thoughts. Her whole world became the hiss of the spray can and the repetitive motion as she stroked each piece of ponderous wood furniture – remembering to go _with_ the grain – until it shone.

Too soon – about an hour and a dozen sneezes later – she was done with her task. She stood back and looked over the room. Not bad. At least this way she felt like she was repaying her parents for the use of the house or something. There was honour in that.

Of course, now she was stuck with reality again – a reality where no one trusted her, where she'd just lost her second lover…and where she'd stopped loving her best friend. All the Pledge in the world couldn't make her life shine.

It had grown dark outside, she realized. Research was going on at the Magic Box, Dawn was grousing about homework, Xander and Anya were bickering over last minute wedding arrangements…and Willow wasn't there – wouldn't _be_ there. She wondered if they were worried. No, probably just annoyed. And okay, maybe she was feeling self-pity right now, but it was how she felt and there wasn't anything she could do about it except ride it out.

She wondered what Spike would think about her observations. Would he think she was silly and childish?

At least he would tell her if he did – he might be kind or blunt or cruel depending on how he felt at the moment, but he'd tell her. She wouldn't find out how he really saw her when he was possessed by a hyena or when he made some Freudian slip or…

Yup, that was self-pity all right and it didn't seem inclined to go anywhere. She just hoped it kept its muddy boots off the newly-polished coffee table.

Being alone really wasn't working for her. She wondered if it was any more effective for Spike. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but she kinda figured that it probably wasn't. So okay, she would go up and take a shower, scrub off the residue of departed dust bunnies, change her clothes and head back to the crypt.

Hopefully, misery wouldn't mind some company.

Tbc…


	10. Chapter 10

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Ten)

Willow's heart sank at the sound of Spike's voice slurring the words "Come in." No need to wonder anymore how he'd spent the afternoon. She walked in. A few candles burned but the place was dark and she tripped over a piece of debris lying on the ground. This time Spike didn't catch her.

"Ow!"

"Sorry, Red."

He was at her side, helping her get up. Her knee hurt and she limped as he guided her to the couch. "Guess the cleanup is still ongoing," she said. She'd been trying to make the words sound light, but she was afraid she'd come off like a bitch instead.

Maybe it didn't matter because Spike said nothing; the stench of whiskey rolling off him made her wonder how he could remain conscious. This wasn't the first time her heart felt like it would shatter on his account, but that didn't lessen the pain at all. Looked like the same was true for him with Buffy. She wondered if he'd ever be able to feel anything like love ever again now that Buffy had taken a sledgehammer to his emotions for the last time.

"I moved out," she said, wondering if Spike would remember anything she told him tomorrow.

"Did you?"

"How could I stay?"

"Where are you gonna live?" Spike asked in that strangely sober way he seemed to manage no matter how drunk he was.

"My parents' place. They're always out of town. Not like they'll even notice."

"You shouldn't have to be alone." What did he mean by that?

"I'm used to it." And that was true…well, it was before, anyway. Before Tara. Before living at Buffy's house. Before Tara. Guess that last thought was a repeat, huh. Redundant or not, it was the most true, though. It was Tara who'd filled up her life – every corner of it. Now there was nothing but dust and echoes and silences when her own voice failed.

"That's not right." He was staring at her again, not as clear or searching as earlier today, but still – there was something there. "Seems like everyone else gets what they need, but not you, pet."

"I'm more worried about you. You do worse alone than I do." Ouch. That was blunter than she'd meant to be.

"I guess that means you noticed I've had a bit to drink."

"A bit? Spike, you smell like you swam in it."

"Spilt some on meself, but yeah, I guess I am a bit intoxicated at that. Not so soused that I don't notice that you changed the subject though."

Had she? She didn't think they'd been talking long enough to really be on a subject yet, but… "What subject was that?"

He reached out, one finger gently caressing her cheek. "You. You being all alone."

She made a dismissive noise. "I told you – I'm used to it. It's no big deal. Hey, at least no one else will use all the hot water right before I want to take a shower anymore." Was that really the one advantage she could come up with? Tara had broken her down. Spike wasn't the only one damaged by love.

"You don't have to pretend, you know. Not with me."

"I'm not pretending."

"You must have me confused with someone who can't hold his liquor."

"Yeah, well, you've been known to do the wacky when you've been drinking. Don't go kidnapping any more witches, okay?" She was trying for lighthearted, but the look on his face…

"Should have hung onto the one I kidnapped last time. Things woulda been different." He wasn't getting the joke, it was clear. "And you changed the subject again. Seems to be a habit with you."

"Spike," she chided, but she couldn't think of anything else to say. His hand was cupping her cheek now and she was staring into eyes so blue they seemed to glow in the near-darkness.

"I kissed you." The words came out of nowhere.

"Yeah, you did."

He stroked her cheek and the corners of his mouth turned up in what might have been a smile.

That was all the warning she got before his lips were on hers.

This kiss wasn't the same as before. It was surer and it tasted of whiskey and smoke, of pain and loss; but there was curiosity and truth, too. Without thinking, she parted her lips, opening to his tongue, and the taste of whiskey grew stronger.

What was she doing? She was gay…right? But it wasn't that thought that made Willow begin to pull away.

"Buffy," she breathed, as she broke the kiss. "You love Buffy."

There was the sound of a sigh and the loss of contact and it was really over. "And you love Tara."

"Why?" she asked, not wanting to talk about Tara. She was nowhere near as sure of her own heart as she was of Spike's.

"Have you ever wanted something more? Dreamed about it? Wondered what it would be like if for once your reach didn't exceed your bloody grasp?"

She remembered what he'd said earlier and she was unsettled. He'd been sober then. "I…"

He got up, pacing the way he did when he was upset and she wondered what she'd done. "Yeah, you." He ran his hand through his hair and she watched as he seemed to calm. "Sorry." What he was apologizing for eluded her deductive skills, but she said nothing. He paused for a moment, back to her. What was he thinking? "Friends?" he asked, turning to face her again.

"Of course." Now she understood. He'd thought this silly, drunken kissing thing had wrecked their friendship, but it hadn't. Willow knew it was nothing – knew that he was lonely and in pain and that alcohol made people do things they regretted later. Well, he didn't need to worry. As far as she was concerned, the kiss had never happened – and she'd send that first kiss into oblivion right alongside it, too. She stood up briskly, extending her hand. "Friends," she said, and after a few seconds of him staring at her hand in what might have been confusion, he put his hand over hers and shook it, just as she'd hoped.

"What did the Slayer say when you told her you were quittin' her digs?" It was an abrupt change of topic, but one for which Willow was grateful. They were back on solid ground now.

"I…uh…I didn't actually tell her. No one was there when I got back, so I just packed and left."

"Wonder what'll happen when she reads the note." Spike lit another candle and Willow felt like a deer in the headlights as Spike held it up, staring into her face. "Bloody hell. You didn't leave a note either, did ya?"

"Not exactly, no."

His head was thrown back in laughter now and Willow was afraid he'd drop the candle. "You don't half make a mess of things, do you? Just walking out without a by your leave. That'll have 'em all thinking you're ready to go back on the magic full force. Is that what you want?"

Twenty-four hours ago, her answer would have been different. But now… Now she spoke and what she said was as true as the candle she'd lit long ago in a dorm room. "I don't care. They can think what they want. I'm not using magic anymore, but it's because I don't want to, not because I want Tara back or Buffy and Xander to like me again or…anything except that getting hopped up on magic that costs more than I ever wanted to pay isn't good for me. It doesn't take me any place I want to go."

The blue of those eyes was an ocean that threatened to swallow her whole. "You really mean that, don't you?" Her nod was emphatic and he blinked in…wonder? "You're something else." He'd said it before, but it sounded even more like a compliment now and this time she didn't brush it off with a self-deprecating quip.

Leaning forward, towards her, he set the candle down. "I'd best be getting back to cleaning this place if I ever want to have a place to sleep."

"You could stay at my house tonight," she offered without a second's thought. When she realized what she'd said, she was glad of it. This was sure to prove to him that their friendship was on solid ground.

"Sure you're safe with me?" he asked with a halfhearted leer. She chuckled and his face darkened. Was she ever going to get it right?

"I figure the deluxe cable channels will keep you occupied," she offered by way of mollification, though she couldn't figure out why he was upset at all.

"Your parents are never home but they spring for all the bells and whistles?"

Willow shrugged. "Go figure."

His eyes had a strange, sad look, but his next words were bright and cheerful so maybe her vision wasn't so hot by candlelight. "Lead the way, pet. Can't let all that cable go to waste."

She made her way carefully through the detritus on the crypt floor and Spike followed. He'd been right about being alone and she was frankly grateful that she wasn't going to have to be after all.

And if her lips still tingled from his kiss and her mouth still tasted of smoke and whiskey and longing? She wasn't going to think about that.

Tbc…


	11. Chapter 11

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Eleven)

"Not exactly chock full of demonic verisimilitude, is it?" Willow observed as Spike finished hurling an impressive stream of obscenities at _Interview With the Vampire_, which was currently tuned in via her parent's little-used cable.

"I'd like to meet that Anne Rice someday when I get this bloody chip out," Spike groused, his voice still thickened by excess alcohol. He grabbed up the remote and turned the channel. Some action-adventure film was on and he seemed happy with it. Willow had to agree that anything largely composed of cars blowing up was a fairly neutral and unobjectionable choice. At least it wasn't a romantic comedy – that would have been agonizing.

After a moment or two lost in thought, Willow wondered why Spike wasn't critiquing the fight scenes onscreen and she realized he'd fallen asleep – well, passed out would probably be more accurate. He looked so peaceful and almost innocent with his cheek against the sofa cushion. This must have been what he looked like as a human. She found herself staring intently, committing this moment to memory. He was such a dichotomy; she'd never known that as truly as she did now.

The kiss he'd last given her replayed in her memory.

_"Have you ever wanted something more? Dreamed about it? Wondered what it would be like if for once your reach didn't exceed your bloody grasp?"_

The words found their way into her throat, choking her, and something which she knew meant nothing to him suddenly threatened to mean far too much to her. Because yeah, she wanted more, wanted better, wanted something… she wasn't even sure what exactly it was. When she looked at Spike again, she felt a growing certainty that answers weren't what she was looking for; in fact, it would make things so much better if she just forgot the questions.

So she got up from the couch and knelt before it, undoing Spike's boots and taking them off. Then she swung his legs up onto the sofa and tucked a throw over him before going and making sure the curtains were tightly shut.

Time for her to go to bed – the bed in which she'd lost her virginity to Oz. It was a lonely night. Not that loneliness was anything new. No, it was nothing new.

* * *

Despite her angst and her discomfiting thoughts, Willow had fallen into slumber with surprising ease, but when she woke up, reality slammed into her full force. She had left Buffy's home without a word and Spike was sleeping in her living room. The first _should_ be more worrying than the last and it was, wasn't it?

Not like lying here thinking was going to help.

Getting out of bed with greater alacrity than she had in weeks, she grabbed some clothes and toiletries out of her suitcase and headed for the bathroom. Some toothpaste and a comb would be needed before she felt ready to face her houseguest.

* * *

"'Lo, Red," Spike greeted her as she wandered into the living room, feigning a nonchalance that couldn't be further from her actual state of mind. "I take it you're the one who tucked me in. Thanks for that." He tilted his head to indicate the throw and his boots, which were still on the floor by the couch – now joined by his socks. His feet were bare and she noticed how pale they were.

She shrugged. "I figured you should be comfortable." Yeah, one of them should.

"You're quite the hostess." His words brought back memories of passing out trays of hors d'oeuvres at the dinner parties her parents had thrown long ago, in the years before Willow was old enough to be left alone for weeks – then months – at a time and her parents had decided that visiting colleagues in cities far removed was more fulfilling than hosting them in the house which could only be called a home by someone ignorant or deliberately ironic. She was eight, if memory served. Hard to keep track of specifics. Oh how far away her childhood seemed. "What's wrong?" Spike asked. Something in her expression must have given away the not-so-happy of her thoughts.

"Nothing," she replied, digging out something resembling a smile and plastering it to her face as best she could.

Spike snorted. "Yeah. Maybe your little pals'd buy that, but I'm not them."

Guess she couldn't argue with that, but it was a bit of a gut punch, all the more so because she was pretty sure those 'pals' weren't her pals at all anymore. She was grateful she still had Spike, even if he did make things more painful and complicated. It wasn't like that was his fault. How could she criticize someone for being honest and for being themselves? "I'm okay," she said, trying to at least keep from having to talk about what she was thinking.

Why was he giving her that angry look again? The same one he'd given her last night? No, she was never going to be able to keep up with his moods. "If you say so," he conceded, sounding more surly than mollified. But then his tone changed and once again she was scrambling to keep pace. "So what's on the agenda for today? I take it you won't be heading for the Magic Box." He sounded brightly curious and not the least bit sour.

Go with the flow, Willow. "Nope," she chirped. "I figured I'd just spend the day kicking back with my best friend." The last words had flowed off her tongue before she could stop herself and her heart nearly stopped in fear. Would he laugh at her? Think she was presumptuous?

The look in his eyes said it wasn't going to be either. "Best friend? Am I that?" He sounded…moved.

"Yeah, Spike. You are." She held her hand out to him and he took it, bringing it up to his lips and kissing it lightly.

"Thanks for that. I can't say I've ever…" He stopped for a moment, appraising her again with those shrewd eyes she remembered. But he didn't finish the sentence, instead saying, "You'd be my best friend, too."

Willow didn't even consider bringing up the fact that she was the only friend he had, but when their eyes met, the truth was in his just as she knew it was in hers. Now would be a good time to do something innocuous, like suggest a trip to the kitchen; she'd stowed some of Spike's blood in the fridge last night and he had to be hungry. But instead... Spike made things complicated.

"I kissed you again last night, didn't I?"

"Yeah," she answered cautiously, not sure where this was going or how she was supposed to react. Spike was an undead minefield.

"And I'm still your best friend?"

Was he worried again? Oh gosh. "Of course," she hastened to reassure him.

"Good." And then, without warning…

He pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

Things weren't just complicated now. They were spinning way out of control.

Tbc…


	12. Chapter 12

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Twelve)

If she'd had any sense, Willow would be back at Buffy's house, swallowing her anger and being a good little recovering addict. But obviously she didn't because instead she was at her parents' house with her arms around Spike and his tongue in her mouth… Oh goddess. This was a lot worse than not having any sense. Because Spike was in love with Buffy.

And, since that was the case, was it at all weird that she was wondering why he kept kissing her?

What _was_ actually weird? Why had her first thought been about Spike's feelings for Buffy and not her own for Tara?

At some point during the eruption of chaos in her brain, Spike stopped kissing her. Her arms were still around him and she hated how much she didn't want to let go. It was painful how much she missed having someone to hold, someone who was hers. But Spike wasn't, was he?

She let go. "What about Buffy?" she asked softly, wincing slightly as she did, waiting for the sharp rebuke or mocking laughter.

Neither came. Instead, there was a soft sigh and a hand cupping her cheek. "What about her, pet? According to her it's all over – hell, according to her it never really was to start with."

"But what about you?"

There was silence for a few moments, but Spike never looked away. "It's complicated."

Even though she knew, it still hurt to see the ambiguity in the eyes of a man who'd just kissed her and her response was…defensive. She snorted. "Yeah. Which is a kinder, gentler way of saying 'you're a good way to pass the time, but you'll never be Buffy,' right?"

The anger was back and Spike's eyes were ice boring into hers. Tough. He wasn't the only walking wounded in the room. "That's not what I meant."

"Sure." She snorted again for good measure.

Spike's eyes flashed gold and he ran his hand through his hair, obviously trying to calm himself. "You're a piece of work, you know that? I kiss ya, I tell ya why over and over…"

He told her why? When? "You never told me why. Sure, when you were drunk you sort of rambled about wanting more, but you never said that…"

There was a lot more she'd been about to say, but talking was kind of difficult – because Spike was kissing her. Again. This time it was harder, more ardent, and she was becoming more and more confused.

Tara had never kissed her like this, although maybe that made sense given that Tara was a girl and all, but Oz and Xander had never kissed her like this either. This was one of those times where she wished maybe she had a little more experience with either gender so she could make sense of things. Because she was liking this way too much and she was really hoping that it was more because she liked the _way_ Spike was kissing her and less that she liked it so much because it was _Spike_ who was kissing her.

And then it stopped. Willow was panting and her lips were swollen. Even if she'd known what to say, she was pretty sure she couldn't have said it. Spike, however, was both able and willing to speak. "No, you're not Buffy. And you said that it like it was some terrible thing. It's not, you know. Yeah, I love her, but I told you before that it doesn't mean I'm blind to her flaws or that she's better than you. She's not." He was gentle now, reaching out and taking her hand. "I know what you think you are. I also know what you _really_ are. And believe me, those are two very different things."

The eyes gazing into hers were full of feeling and her own began to well up with tears. "I…" But she got no further. Spike's finger was at her lips, forestalling her speech.

"I know you think you're bad, and yeah, you've made mistakes – and okay, they weren't small – but they're not who you are. Maybe that's why no one wants to forgive you. Because it seems so much worse when the really good go wrong. I don't know. But what I do know is that you're a shining thing. And you're a damn sight too good for me – for anyone, really, but especially me. So if you're wondering why I love her, it's because I can. If you're wondering why I kissed you, it's because I aspire."

His arms were around her now and she was sobbing against his chest. He guided her to the sofa, sitting down beside her, never releasing his hold on her.

It was Spike; she knew that now. Not the way he kissed her, but the who he was. She'd known it before he spoke, but there was no denying it after, and it was hopeless. The impossibility rang in every word he said and they both knew it. He would still love Buffy for all the tender speeches he might make and Willow…Willow wasn't sure anymore.

What was Tara doing right now? Was she smiling and flirting with that girl at the coffee shop who had always given her the eye? Was she casting spells with the blithe confidence of someone who never need fear the darkness inside? Did she miss Willow? What would she think if she knew that, at this very moment, Willow's heart had someone new making a home in it, someone who could never live there but was moving in anyway, leaving boot-prints on the carpet and cigarette burns on the upholstery?

"I could love you," she said softly, her voice thick with tears. "I know it's not what you want, and you don't have to think about it or feel sorry for me or anything…"

"Shh," he said, his voice as thick as her own. His lips were on hers again, soft this time, but no less intoxicating for all of it. Yes, she'd known.

Without thinking, she wrapped her arms around him tightly, caressing his back through his shirt, sending signals she wasn't sure she should be sending at all. Maybe he'd just ignore them.

He didn't. "I don't want to hurt you, Willow," he whispered. The sound of her name – her real name and not some nickname or diminutive – made it all seem so meaningful. It was, wasn't it?

"You won't."

Staring into her eyes, he gave a short, mirthless chuckle. "Liar."

"It won't be your fault," she amended, and that was true enough. "Please?" She wasn't sure what she was asking for.

Spike probably didn't know any better than she did. But he kissed away the tear that traced its path down her cheek and slowly untucked her short-sleeved blouse from her jeans. "You're beautiful," he said, and the words sounded holy.

Willow kissed him, softly and sweetly, the way he had just kissed her. Closing her eyes, she started to lose herself in the feel of Spike's lips and in the way his fingers were undoing the buttons on her shirt.

She began tugging his shirt free and he stopped what he was doing to pull it over his head. Her eyes were open now and she couldn't help but stare. He was exquisite – a sculpture more than a man. She traced her fingers around one nipple, watching as it hardened, listening to him hiss. "Did you wanna go to your room?" His solicitude was sweet, but that room was the last place Willow wanted to make love to Spike.

"No," she replied, trying to explain without names or details that would kill the fragile mood. "I want this to be just about us, you know?"

There was something shining in his eyes now and she thought it might be tears, but then he was kissing her again and she didn't think about it anymore.

Getting her jeans and panties off must have been complicated, but she didn't remember doing it, or remember when Spike had shed the rest of his clothes. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see them, and her bra, lying on the ground, but that was only for a fleeting second because now her eyes were locked with those of the man above her; the man who was about to be the first man she allowed inside her since Oz left; the man with whom she was breaking faith with Tara; the man who was in love with her best friend.

All those thoughts evaporated as Spike filled her. She had been as ready for him as she could be, but time had made the feeling unfamiliar enough to be startling. "Did I hurt you?" he asked.

"No. I'm just…"

He kissed her again. Then he began moving inside her.

She couldn't begin to describe how she was feeling, letting go as her body remembered the rhythm and they found a harmony she hadn't expected. "You feel so good," he said, his voice disappearing into the sensations he was creating as she thrust against him.

"Spike," she cried out as she felt release wash over her, drowning her.

"Oh my God!"

The words shattered the beautiful world she'd found refuge in. Because the voice wasn't Spike's.

Tbc…


	13. Chapter 13

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Thirteen)

Xander was standing just a few feet away, staring at her (and Spike) in horror.

This was very possibly the worst thing that could have happened.

"Ever heard of knocking?" Spike growled, shielding Willow's body with his own. His gallantry touched her. "And you might want to turn around. Give the lady a chance to put some clothes on. Or did you think this was your bloody bachelor party?"

Xander opened his mouth but said nothing and he did turn around. Willow was on the verge of tears. "It'll be all right," Spike said softly; they both knew he was lying. How could this ever be all right?

She pulled her clothes back on in a hurry, as did Spike, and then she said, "Okay, you can turn around now."

He did…and to her complete lack of surprise, he let her have it with both barrels. "How could you? Is this some side effect of going to Rack? Are you using magic again? I can't believe my best friend, my _gay_ best friend, is screwing Spike! What the hell is wrong with you?"

While Willow fought through her emotional turmoil to try to find a way to defend herself, Spike leapt into the fray. "You're luckier than you'll ever know that I have this blasted chip, whelp, or I'd snap your worthless neck for talkin' to her that way. No, she's not usin' magic again. And why it's any of your business who she makes love to is something I'd really like to know. What's the matter? Kicking yourself 'cause you missed your chance? I would be if I were you. Not that you could ever be man enough for her. No wonder she switched to the pink team, what with pathetic tossers like you and that mutt for comparison. Hell, I bet Anya will be knocking on Glinda's door any day now."

'Make love.' Xander hadn't used those words, but Spike had. They echoed in her head. Were those the words she would have used? The knot in her belly told her she might have – though not aloud.

So caught up was she in her thoughts that she almost missed Spike's last dig and Xander's reaction. Luckily for Spike's continued survival she didn't and she stepped in front of Spike just in time…to take a punch to the face.

The next thing she knew, she was on the floor and her cheek really hurt. Her jaw did, too. Ow. Getting hit really sucked and it made her remember one of the reasons she'd started learning magic to begin with. It was no fun when you had no way to defend yourself. How did Spike live with it? Knowing that any human could do this to him whenever they wanted and there was nothing he could do about it?

"Will?" Xander's voice broke through her thoughts and she realized Spike was holding her… and he was in full game face.

"Ya happy now?" Spike tightened his hold on her. "You're a real prize, Harris. A man who gets his rocks off by beating up women."

"Shut up, Spike!" Xander yelled. "I didn't mean to hit her."

"No," Willow interjected, her voice soft as she winced. Talking was painful. "You were trying to hit Spike, who can't hit you back. That's worse." She reached up and stroked Spike's cheek, hoping he didn't hate her for saying what she just did. The ridges were gone, so maybe he was okay.

"Did you hear what he said?" Xander's voice was a high-pitched squeal as he locked eyes with her, sure she'd take his side – like the old days.

The old days were gone. They'd been gone for so long. "I heard what _you_ said," Willow shot back, staring him down. "Guess you know now you were wrong about the magic. And as for why I was wi…," she paused, finding the strength to give Spike what she owed him, "… why I made love to Spike, that's none of your business. But I don't care that you know. I'm not ashamed of what I did or who I did it with."

Spike squeezed her gently for a moment and she didn't need to look at his face to know she'd said the right thing for once. It was well worth the renewed ache in her throbbing jaw. Now she waited for Xander to lay a guilt trip on her about Tara. She wasn't disappointed.

"What about Tara? You know, your girlfriend?"

"Ex-girlfriend," Spike answered for her, stroking her arm as he spoke and then getting to his feet, drawing her up alongside him. "Or did you conveniently forget the part where Glinda took a powder the moment things got a bit too tough for her liking?"

"She left because…"

"Willow got hooked on the magics, she hurt people, blah blah blah. Yeah, I know. I was one of the ones she hurt, in case you forgot." Spike's words pained her, but when he gingerly put his hand under her chin and turned her face to look into his eyes, she understood that he was making a point. Besides, it wasn't like what he was saying wasn't true. He continued. "But what I also know is that when Glinda stumbled out and got herself brain-sucked by Glory, Red was willing to feed her and tend her forever, even though she was nothing but an over-sized toddler. Because that's what ya do when ya love someone. You stick by 'em during the bad times. You don't turn tail and run."

Xander stood there, obviously thinking about what Spike had just said. Willow wasn't optimistic, though. He hated Spike and she wasn't at all convinced that their friendship was a real, living thing anymore anyway.

Much to her shock, she thought saw tears begin to shine in his eyes. "I'm sorry I hit you," he said. "And I'm sorry that I just assumed you'd used magic again. We all did," he revealed. Guess that was what had brought him here. Willow had actually been wondering about that. "But that's no excuse. I should have trusted you. I mean, you're the last musketeer and…"

Spike seemed to understand what she needed – not for the first time – and let her go. She immediately went to Xander and hugged him gently, making sure to turn her face to the side that wasn't currently swollen and painful. "I probably should have left a note," she offered.

"Why did you leave anyway?" Xander asked. "We decided to look for you and since I had a key to this place, I came here and…"

"Solves the mystery of the bad manners," Spike interposed.

"Spike," Willow chided him gently, not wanting to ruin this rapprochement they seemed to have reached.

Spike, it seemed, was having none of it. "What? If he thought you were here, he could have knocked first."

And of course, Xander was thinking again. "Is he why you moved out? Is it because of this thing with Spike?"

Oh goddess. But just as Willow was about to do what she thought was the right thing and say no, Spike piped up with, "Yeah, if you must know. It was gettin' tough on her, livin' there, what with the fact that she was seein' me. So we figured it would be better all the way around if she found herself some new digs. And here she is."

"I thought you said you weren't ashamed," Xander said, confused even though he was the one who'd made the assumption. Heck, Willow was sure confused. Why was Spike concocting this story? This did not bode well for him getting Buffy back… or did it? Did he hope she found out and got jealous?

She'd have to ask him later. For now, she just said, "I'm not ashamed. I just…"

Spike immediately cut her off, chiming in with, "I asked her to keep mum. I knew how you lot would react." He gave Xander a pointed glare. "Didn't want her gettin' any more grief than she was already."

To Willow's amazement, Xander seemed to…accept it. Oh, he didn't look like he was going to give them his blessing or anything, but he didn't seem skeptical and he wasn't looking for a stake. Wow. This was new.

"Just to make sure we're clear on this," Xander said after a long silence, "I'm not okay with you and my best friend. She might have forgotten that you're a soulless demon, but I haven't and I don't trust you as far as I can throw you. But I'm not going to say anything. Because you're right – Willow doesn't need any more grief." He addressed Willow. "I'm just going to go back to The Magic Box and tell them that I talked to you and you just need some space for a little while."

"Don't want 'em to see the mess you made of her face?" Spike asked shrewdly.

Xander coloured and Willow almost felt badly for him until her throbbing jaw reminded her of why she ought to enjoy his guilt. For someone who talked as much as she did, this was going to be pretty close to hell for several days. "I'm really sorry for hitting you, Will," he said again.

"It's all right," she said.

"It bloody well isn't," Spike contradicted her.

Willow was about to argue, when Xander spoke. "He's right. It's not all right." Pulling Willow into another hug, he spoke again, this time softly enough that she knew he was hoping – in vain – not to be overheard by the other person in the room. "We are definitely going to have a talk soon. Just you and me. I am not okay with this."

With that, and a last weak jibe at Spike, Xander left. Willow wondered why he hadn't mentioned the wedding, though she guessed now that she wasn't going to be part of it, what with her very-likely-multicoloured face... and with Xander's clear disapproval of her choices.

Spike's voice soon brought her back to those very choices. "Alone at last."

And now she could only think about one thing. "Spike?" she asked. "Why did you tell Xander that we're in a relationship?"

Tbc…


	14. Chapter 14

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Fourteen)

The silence was deafening and Spike looked as uncertain as Willow felt. It occurred to her that he hadn't thought about what he'd said for a moment. He'd just said it. Somehow that just made it harder to deal with – the fact that it might _not_ have been calculated. The sincerity she'd begun to see in him as their friendship had developed was still almost painful as it scraped harshly against everything she'd once believed about him.

"I don't quite know why I said it, do I?" He was standing before her now and he reached out, taking her hand. "But I couldn't very well have that worthless prat all but call you a whore. Don't think he'd understand what we have."

That brought up another question, but it wasn't one Willow wanted to ask so she just squeezed his hand and said, "Thanks." Funny that she didn't defend Xander, but she guessed he could survive being called a worthless prat behind his back. Desperate to avoid a silence that might be filled with her own uncomfortable thoughts, Willow blurted out the first thing she could think of: "So… What did you want to do today?"

She winced as he smirked and raised an eyebrow at her. That was so not what she'd meant and yet… Yeah, it felt good that he seemed to want to do it again. Because in losing Tara she'd lost all her confidence in herself not just as someone worthy of love, but as a lover as well. It was good to think that maybe she wasn't so bad after all.

"Hadn't planned on stopping when we did," Spike offered.

"Xander sort of killed the mood," she said in the most apologetic tone she could muster. And that was the truth.

"Amazing how many ways there are to bring the dead back to life," he replied.

She gave him a careful half-smile, letting him know she was tempted. But she realized that, as much as she would prefer to drown herself in the feeling of Spike inside her, they had to talk. Like it or not, making love and being discovered had changed the game. There was going to be fallout from this, both from her friends and in their friendship. She'd known the minute she'd let Spike undo the first button; she'd known when she said the word 'please'. Unlike rain, there was no way to tell this to go away and come again another day.

Sitting in one of the hideously uncomfortable chairs her parents had chosen for a living room no one ever sat in, she said softly, "I think we better talk."

Much to her surprise, his expression turned to one of acquiescence and understanding. "Yeah. Suppose we do at that." He sat on the coffee table, their knees almost touching, and took her hand again. The feel of his fingers against hers was becoming familiar and she wondered if that was a good thing. "You okay?" he asked; there was genuine concern there.

"Yeah. I mean Xander seeing me naked and all wasn't of the fun, but…"

Spike chuckled, stroking her fingers as he did. "Can't say I liked his timing."

"No," she agreed. "His timing pretty much sucked."

"Warned ya that you'd get hurt."

"It doesn't hurt that much," she lied.

He shook his head. "Wasn't talkin' about your jaw."

She guessed she'd known that, hadn't she. "I'm not… I meant what I said to him, you know. I'm not ashamed. I mean, sure, I'm embarrassed 'cause of the whole naked thing –and Xander knowing makes things complicated – oh and getting hit wasn't a whirligig of fun either – but we didn't do anything shameful… Did we?" Willow stared at the floor, trying to focus on the pain in her jaw and not on how much she hoped Spike didn't think it was terrible that Xander knew.

"Of course it wasn't." Spike's other hand was now under her chin, barely touching it. "Look at me, pet." She did. "All I meant was that your pals – and that sure as hell includes the Slayer – aren't gonna take this too well. I don't think for a minute your boy's gonna keep the news to himself. He's too apt to trip over his own tongue. Hell, he couldn't even keep the Poof's little visit to Sunnydale secret through dinner and he had his bloody mouth full the whole time."

Willow chuckled softly. She remembered that Thanksgiving.

Spike meant it, didn't he? He wasn't ashamed or sorry. He was just worried, as he had a right to be, about what would happen once everyone knew. "Xander's worse at keeping secrets from Buffy than I am," she said without thinking. That would have been funny once, but she was keeping lots of secrets now.

It seemed he could see the sadness in her eyes. "If it helps, you're still a lousy liar. It's just that no one expects you to lie, that's all." How did he always know what to say?

Still, he wasn't completely right. "They think I lie now."

His first response was a snort, followed by "About magic, yeah. But not about anything personal. Figure they all still see Glinda as the center of your universe."

Tara.

Now that Spike mentioned _her_, there really was no ignoring the elephant in the room. "What about Buffy?" Willow's voice was soft and tentative as she asked her question.

Another chuckle, this one harder and tinged with bitterness. "She'll probably think I did this to make her jealous."

There was a tear in Willow's eye as she asked, "Did you?"

He looked angry for a moment, but he stared into her eyes and the moment passed. "You don't half hate yourself, do you?"

She shrugged and said, "That's not really an answer, is it."

"You're right. And the answer is no. I made love to you because I wanted you… Hell, I still want you. And if it wasn't for Xander, you'd still be naked. As for anything else…" He paused, running his hand through his hair and looking away. "It's complicated, pet. I've never known anyone like you. I know you're my friend – best I've ever had. Maybe that's not enough, but it's what I've got right now."

The words were comforting and discomfiting all at once. Did she want him to feel more than friendship for her? And why, in all he'd said, was there not one question about her feelings? She'd told him she _could_ love him. Did that mean she already did? Did he know?

Or was he even more scared than she was? Did he just not _want_ to ask?

"I meant what I said," she offered haltingly, hoping he knew what she meant.

"I know." But somehow she knew that he didn't.

"I really did mean it. I don't know how I feel right now. This isn't exactly what I was expecting. But you're…and I… And yeah, I could, you know…" She tried, but she couldn't finish the sentence. "But the friendship thing, that's okay. Because you're my best friend, too."

He was staring at her again, when he suddenly got up. "Bugger!"

"What?" Oh Goddess. Had she screwed up again?

"I wanna kiss you and…"

Oh. "Sorry."

"What are you apologizing for? Not your fault Harris likes to beat up women."

"He didn't actually mean to hit me." No, she was not going to bring up the fact that she was less defenseless than Spike was. "I just sort of got in the way."

"You need to never do that again," Spike chided her. "You don't heal the way demons do."

Inwardly she thanked him for not mentioning the fact that a simple (as if there was any such thing for her now) healing spell could take care of her jaw in moments. "No, I guess I don't." She smiled, and winced again when she discovered her limits. "Can I have a rain check on that kiss?"

"On that and anything else you fancy," he answered.

"Good." What else could she say? And was she blushing? Great, now her face was even more multi-coloured.

"Wanna watch some telly?" Spike asked after a few awkward seconds.

With an almost audible sigh of relief, Willow replied, "Yeah. Sure thing. I'll even let you control the remote, how's that?"

They both moved back to the couch and Willow sat, her head nestled against Spike's shoulder as he flipped through channel after channel. No, they hadn't talked about the others – especially their significant others – not really. She sighed again as Spike gave her a soft look before turning back to the television. Something told her that they were really in for it. But was there anything that they could do about it?

Tbc…


	15. Chapter 15

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Fifteen)

Willow realized she'd been asleep with her head on Spike's shoulder when a sound and a sudden movement on Spike's part woke her up. "Huh?" she asked blearily as she opened her eyes.

"She's here," he said and Willow was awake enough to hear the tension in his voice and to know exactly who he meant by 'she.' That knowledge, in fact, woke her up the rest of the way. Oh yeah. She was wide awake now…and boy did she wish she'd pushed for that conversation about significant others.

What did he expect her to say to Buffy? Did he want her to still pretend she didn't know what she knew? Too late to worry about that now, because the sound that had woken her up had been the doorbell and she just heard it again.

"Coming," she called out.

Spike smirked at her as she got off the couch. "That was when we had our _last_ visitor," he snarked softly. Darn, now her face was beet red and when she couldn't help but smile, the ache in her jaw reminded her of something awkward – yeah, that punch. She hadn't looked in the mirror, but there was no way she was un-bruised.

Oh well. Her hand was on the doorknob and she turned it. "Hey, Buffy."

Gosh, this wasn't awkward at all.

Buffy stepped into the house and looked shocked to see that they weren't alone. Oh great. Guess that, contrary to Spike's expectations, Xander had left out the part about Willow having company. "Spike? What are you doing here?"

"Couldn't very well stay in my old place, now could I? Not after you and Captain Cardboard got through with it."

There was no mention of Willow's face, but then, it wasn't like Buffy was looking at her. At least now she knew how Spike was going to handle the issue of their confusing relationship. She wasn't sure how to feel about that, though. It was sort of good, right, that he wasn't doing anything that would make Buffy think he was trying to make her jealous?

"So, what? You tracked down Willow and asked her if you could move into her parents' house?"

Okay, she _did_ know for sure how she felt about one thing right now – Buffy had seemingly forgotten Willow was even in the room and it hurt. It hurt a lot. "Actually, I told him I was moving out of your house and asked if he'd move in here with me."

The startled look on Buffy's face when she spoke twisted the knife in her gut. At least now she finally spotted… "What happened to your face?" And of course, Buffy immediately turned back to Spike, eager to place blame where it didn't belong.

"Wasn't me. That would be the fault of your boy Xander."

"He's right. It was an accident, though. It's not like Xander meant to hurt me," Willow hastily explained.

Buffy looked confused and sat down on the couch, which made Willow feel…weird. After all, she and Spike had just… Yeah, _just_ – and on that very couch. "He didn't tell me about that. He just said you were here and that you…"

Spike cut her off. "Needed some space. Yeah, that's what he told us he was going to say. Which begs the question of what you're doing here."

"I wanted to make sure you were okay." She was addressing Willow this time. Golly, didn't that make her feel special.

Guess Spike wasn't buying it any more than Willow was and he was the one who had a ready retort. "Right. I think what you meant was that you wanted to see if she was usin' magic again. She's not, not that I believe for a second you'll take my word for it. Tell you what – why don't you have your best pal Glinda come on over and check it out? She'll be able to tell if anything magical's going on here and I'm sure you'd trust _her_."

If Willow had ever doubted Spike – which she hadn't – the colour rising in Buffy's cheeks would have been enough to confirm he'd told her the truth when he'd said that Tara was Buffy's new confidante. But seeing what she saw now, while she didn't need it to know the truth, brought it home and it felt like a gut punch all over again.

She wondered – were Tara's secrets the reason she didn't feel nearly as guilty as she had thought she would? Should she feel guiltier anyway? Was she a bad person? Maybe, but still a part of the hole in her heart where Tara lived closed up.

Conversation continued, breaking through her thoughts. "I trust Willow," Buffy argued, none too convincingly.

Willow sighed, shaking off the last of her reverie. She knew the script. She was supposed to sit beside Buffy, eyes downcast, and tell her she understood. She did, she supposed, but she wasn't sure she owed her anything right now, least of all contrition. Still, she followed part of the script – she sat down next to Buffy. The rest, however? That was gonna be all improv. "Whether you do or you don't, it doesn't matter. I'm not using magic. But it's not because of you, or Xander, or Tara, or even Dawn. I'm not using magic because I don't want to go down that road again. I don't like how it made me feel and I don't like the things I did. It's about me now. And if none of you ever believe me or trust me or want to be my friend again, it doesn't make any difference, because it has nothing to do with you guys. Not anymore."

Her eyes were locked on Spike's now, and what she saw… It was respect and admiration and support and everything she'd ever wanted from any of her friends. There was something more, too, but that was probably just wishful thinking, so she focused on what she could believe in. That was enough. That was _more_ than enough.

Looking away, she brought her gaze to Buffy's face. There was that confusion again. She wondered why. A part of her had thought that maybe Buffy would be proud of her – that she'd see that Willow had finally set her feet onto the right path. Because this? Staying away from spells for her own sake? It felt good and pure and so much easier than the way she'd been doing things before. She'd been right when she'd first made the shift - this felt like she owned herself again… Or maybe for the first time.

"That's good, Will," Buffy said. Maybe Willow was overly sensitive, but her friend's voice sounded patronizing, the way you'd talk to a five year old, and it was painful. But she guessed a part of her had expected it. And in Buffy's defense, Willow supposed it made sense to doubt her. Still…

If Willow was hurt, Spike seemed angry. He spoke, his voice hard and cold, and what he said was a shock. "Nice job of being supportive there, Slayer. You'd think, as a fellow junkie trying to kick a habit, you'd be just a bit more understanding."

Buffy reddened, especially when she saw Willow's eyes shoot wide, and Spike seemed as stunned as anyone by what he'd come out with. It was clear he wasn't turning back, though. Instead, he just kept going. "Don't worry, she knows. She knows everything. What? You figured you were the only one who should be allowed to have a friend to spill your guts to? Sorry, but I've got my own."

Green eyes bored into hers. "You knew? How long?" Buffy sounded betrayed and that was the last straw.

"Uh-huh. I knew. I've known since I went looking for you and saw you and Spike in the alley behind the Doublemeat."

If there wasn't so much tension in the room, Willow might have giggled at the fact that she'd never seen Buffy quite so red in the face before. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She'd been wrong. _This_ was the last straw. Willow got to her feet. "Why didn't I tell you? Why didn't you tell _me_? If we're such good friends, you'd think I wouldn't be the last to know that you had a relationship with Spike. Oh, but wait - it wasn't a relationship. You were just screwing him so you could feel. Never mind _his_ feelings."

Buffy opened her mouth and Willow shut her down with a glare so angry she could feel her own fury in the whites of her eyes as she hit Buffy with almost the same words she'd shouted in the wreckage of Spike's crypt. "No! I'm not finished. I pulled you out of Heaven and you're angry and hurting and I get that. I do. But if you were going to punish anyone, it should have been me. I'm the one who ruined everything. Instead, you take it out on Spike, who didn't do anything. He wasn't even involved in bringing you back. All he did was love you and you threw it back in his face and used him and treated him like garbage. That's not okay, Buffy. That's the farthest possible thing from okay. And there's no excuse you could ever come up with to _make_ it okay, so don't even try."

The lines of Buffy's mouth were tight as she stood up. "I know you think Spike told you everything, but there's two sides to this and…"

"Yeah, there are. There's right and there's wrong and from where I'm standing, you're not on the side you used to be."

Spike stepped in. "I think this is your cue to leave, Slayer."

Fixing him with a stare, Buffy said, "I don't know what game you're playing, or why you decided to use Willow, but it ends now."

"I think we've all said enough," Willow cut in, obliquely. "I'd really like you to leave."

Buffy tried to take her hand, but Willow pulled it away. That didn't stop Buffy from turning on the liquid, caring expression that once used to mean so much. "He's a demon, Willow, and he's using you. I know you think he's your friend, but…"

"I am her friend!" Spike exclaimed, nearly shouting. "Now I think the lady asked you to leave." He pointed at the door.

"Will?"

"Just go, okay?" In a few short sentences, Buffy had managed to reawaken all of Willow's insecurities and fears and she wanted her gone before she started to cry.

Hesitating for a moment, Buffy finally went to the door. "This isn't over, Spike," she said, before finally exiting the house.

After a moment, Willow turned to Spike. Before she could even say a word, he pulled her into his arms. "She's wrong, you know. I'm not using you. Please believe me, pet. I'd never do that to you."

Tbc…


	16. Chapter 16

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Sixteen)

"You do believe me, right?"

As much as a lifetime of being let down and let go had done its best to teach her that trusting was a very bad thing, Willow's nature made that the one lesson she was no good at learning. "I know," she said softly. "You're my friend."

She could feel his lips against the top of her head. "Thank you," Spike whispered into her hair.

"It probably could have gone better, huh?" Willow said after a moment or two.

His chuckle vibrated through her. "That's an understatement. Of course, it could have been worse."

Willow had to concede his point there. Spike wasn't a big pile of dust on her carpet and Buffy hadn't run her out of town on a rail – were there any rails for her to be run out on? – so maybe things weren't as bad as they could have been. Still, she'd been slapped in the face with what she'd been running from and that was hard.

Her friendship with Buffy was gone – or at least it was such a dessicated mockery of what it had once been that it might as well be added to the obituary column. It was less lively than most of the other deceased in this town.

"Are you all right?" Willow asked as she finally pulled away from Spike. "I know this had to be kinda hard on you." It was pretty obvious that he was about to lie to her and she headed him off at the pass. "You love her. It's okay to be upset. And I'm your friend, so it's okay to be honest with me."

The look in his eyes was something she hadn't seen in a long time and she knew she'd better just disregard it, not get used to it, because it hurt so much to lose. "There's no one like you," he said and the words were as painful as the look in his eyes – the promise of future heartache rang beneath them like funeral bells.

She should have thought of this before they made love. But she had, hadn't she? She had just swept her fears aside.

"I'm sorry she treated you the way she did," Willow offered. Her concern was sincere. And, to be honest, it felt more comfortable to steer the topic back away from herself.

"I'm a hell of a lot sorrier about the way she treated _you_," Spike countered, blocking her move. Was this chess? She'd been good at chess once, though she was pretty sure that Spike must be better. Winning had never been Willow's strong suit; she was too afraid of being noticed, of being disliked even more than she already was.

"It was no big deal."

"Now who's not being honest?" Okay, he had her there. It _was_ a big deal. It was a very big deal.

"Nothing she said was that big of a shock." Welcome to the happy land of _non sequiturs_ and evasions.

"Doesn't mean it didn't bother ya." Spike reached out and took her hand as he changed things up once more. "I was proud of you. The way you stood up to… for me? I…" He stopped, pulling her to him again. This time though he leaned in and gave her the softest of kisses – just like the first one. "Did I hurt you?" he asked when he was done.

"No." And he hadn't, at least not yet. Her jaw was fine, too. Without thinking, she found herself asking, "What would have happened if she found out? About us, I mean. About what we…"

"About us making love?"

Yeah, that would be it. "Uh huh."

His eyes stared into hers, into _her_. "I think I wish she had."

"You don't mean that."

Now there was anger and she wished she hadn't contradicted him. "You gonna tell me how I feel? Thought you were better than that."

Suddenly she got it and she _really_ wished she had just shut up. "I'm sorry. I wasn't trying to tell you how you feel." She wasn't Buffy and now more than ever – or maybe for the first time – she was glad she wasn't. If only she could somehow find the right words. "I really wasn't. I was just…" Time to open a vein again. "I'm just scared, you know? Scared that if I get used to this," she gestured between the two of them, "that it'll hurt more when it's gone."

A short, rueful chuckle from Spike followed; the anger had bled out of his eyes. "We're not so different, are we?"

Willow shrugged. "Guess not."

"Sorry I doubted you. Seems like we do that 'one step forward' bit a sight too often, doesn't it?"

"Yeah." What else was she supposed to say? She felt like there was something, though.

"I meant what I said. I do almost wish your boy had told her." He held up his hand in warning. "And before you go jumping to the obvious conclusion, it's not because I want to make her jealous. I think maybe it's because sometimes the only way to be free, really free… It's not enough just to unlock the chains. You have to make 'em disappear."

Willow wondered if everything she'd ever learned in school added up to what Spike had said just now. She was pretty sure it didn't. His words were a thunderclap, still echoing loudly in her ears. "I should tell… I mean, I'm going to say something to Tara. I won't say anything you don't want me to, but I'm going to tell her that I don't want to get back together with her." That probably would be more meaningful if she wasn't sure Tara did not want to get back together with _her_, but still…it was the thought that counted, right?

Besides, she meant it. A part of her would always love Tara, but Tara had made her choices and she hadn't chosen Willow. All Willow was doing was letting go… and without any spells to try and feel better about her loss, either.

There was that look again, the one that terrified her with its power to entrap. "Good on you. I always said Glinda was nowhere near good enough for you. Glad to see you keepin' your promise and kicking her to the curb." He said nothing about what this might mean to their friendship, but then she supposed he couldn't be expected to. It wasn't like he'd made her any promises. You didn't have to _be_ in love to _make_ love. But why the look? The one she used to get from…

The doorbell rang and it startled her. It seemed to even startle Spike. "Who the bloody hell is it this time?" Guess that meant it wasn't Buffy. Spike could always sense her.

"I better see. Not like everyone doesn't know I'm here now." Spike sat down heavily on the couch as Willow went and opened the door.

Oh goddess. When she'd said she wanted to talk to Tara, she hadn't actually meant right this very minute. "Hi," she said as awkwardly as she felt.

"Hi." Tara didn't look any more comfortable and Willow wasn't sure if she was comforted by that or irritated. She decided on irritated because she wasn't in the mood to soothe Tara's feelings.

"What brings you here?" she asked, more tersely than she had intended even as she stepped back to allow her one-time girlfriend to enter the house.

Tara said nothing, not that she had expected her to; she just followed Willow right into the living room, where they were confronted by the site of Spike, his feet propped up on the coffee table, looking for all the world as if he owned the place. Willow stifled a giggle even as she wondered if she really found this funny. Maybe it was. Maybe it was time for one last spot of trouble to round out today's trifecta.

No look of surprise on Tara's face, just annoyance. Willow decided to dispense with the niceties. "I take it you talked to Buffy. Wow. Not really such a big surprise there, seeing as how you guys tell each other everything these days."

Seemingly taken aback, Tara said nothing for a moment. Neither did Willow or Spike. The silence stretched into something way past the point of being uncomfortable, but still, she and Spike had what amounted to an unspoken pact and they waited. Finally, Tara spoke. "Can we…talk?"

Willow was about to answer when Spike beat her to the punch. "Talk away. Don't let me stop you." He stretched out and put his hands behind his head.

Tara glared at him. It was disconcerting. Willow wasn't used to seeing Tara this way…at least with anyone but her. "I want to talk to Willow alone."

Once again, Spike spoke before Willow got the chance. "I don't think so. Anything you've got to say to her, you can say to me as well."

Tbc…


	17. Chapter 17

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Seventeen)

Spike had dug in his heels, his eyes shooting daggers at Tara. He was obdurate, at least in the face of her one-time lover. Willow was about to ask him to leave herself, to let her talk to Tara alone…but then she realized that maybe he needed some evidence that he could trust her – and that she believed in him. It was a tough day for the both of them and, for all his bravado, she knew so well how fragile Spike was. What it came down to was where her first loyalty lay: with Spike or with Tara?

"He's right. Anything you have to say to me, you can say with him here or you can just skip it and go home."

Well, at least _now_ Tara looked surprised. "Willow, I…"

Willow cut her off. "I know you know about Spike and Buffy. And that you obviously think what she was doing was okay."

"Buffy told me you knew." Yet in spite of that, Tara had obviously been unprepared for disapproval. Spike must have been right about no one believing Willow's world had shifted its orbit.

"How could you?" she asked, staring into Tara's eyes, hoping that there was some really good explanation… knowing that there wasn't.

Tara's eyes darted over to Spike. "I really think…"

"No chance," Spike sniped. It was obvious that Tara had been about to reiterate her request that he leave and Willow shook her head in agreement with him.

"It's complicated," Tara offered, as if that meant something.

That could not have just come out of Tara's mouth, could it? "That's your idea of an excuse? 'It's complicated?' And by the way, it's not complicated at all. Using Spike, hurting him, breaking his heart? Just because she needed to 'feel'? There's nothing complicated there. It was selfish and cruel and wrong. See? Simple – as in so very not complicated."

No reply came for a long moment and Willow wondered what was going on in Tara's mind. There had been a time not so long ago when she wouldn't have wondered – she would have known. "I… I think you're right," Tara said, her voice soft. "I h-hadn't looked at it like that."

"Thanks ever so, Glinda."

"Spike," Willow chided him gently. Hopefully he could see in her eyes that this didn't change anything. It made what she needed to do harder, but it altered her course not a bit. She went to Tara, but resisted the impulse to take her hand. "I'm glad you get it now. Because I know what kind of person you are and I just can't believe you ever thought it was okay."

"Buffy…"

"Should have taken it out on me if she was angry. Spike had nothing to do with it." Tara's eyes had the most curious look in them and Willow was almost angered by it. "You're surprised I see it that way, huh."

"No…no. It's just…"

"You thought she was as narcissistic and self-serving as your new best chum." Spike let out a short, bitter bark of laughter as he stood up. "You're something, I'll say that for ya." He turned his attention to Willow. "What did you see in this clueless bint, anyway?"

"Just because you're staying in Willow's house, that doesn't g-give you the right…"

"Her house isn't all I've been in, girl."

"Spike!" Willow cried, but it was too late. Tara's eyes were full of shock and pain and it wasn't as if Willow was going to lie.

"You…and…and Spike?"

Her eyes locked on Tara's, Willow answered, "Yes. I've… I've made love with Spike."

"He's using you, you know," Tara spat back. "He's in love with Buffy."

Noticing that angry tic in Spike's jaw, Willow maneuvered herself between them. "I know he loves Buffy. But he's not using me."

"He is and you just don't see it." Tara seemed conflicted for a moment and Willow wondered what she'd say next. It wasn't long before she found out. "I can't believe you threw away us, w-what we had, for this…"

"Demon? Man? Which one makes you angrier?" Spike interrupted. "And I got news for ya – Willow isn't the one who turned tail and ran. You broke up with her. It's none of your business who she shares her bed with anymore."

"No. I guess it isn't." Tara's face was red as she addressed Willow again. "This is it then, isn't it?"

"Yes," Willow said gravely. "It is. I'm…I'm sorry you're hurt."

This time it was Tara whose laughter was bitter. "Yeah. Sure."

"I know you don't believe me now, but maybe someday you'll realize that I never meant for any of this to happen. But it did and…"

"You're sorry?"

"No," Willow replied. "But like I said, I'm sorry you were hurt." She kept her tone even, not wanting any emotion to confuse things. A clean break was best for everyone.

Tara's face reddened more. "Right. Thanks." She was clearly angry, not that Willow blamed her. Things had not gone well; Willow had hoped to let Tara down gently, but…

The door opened and then slammed and Tara was gone.

Willow sat down on the couch and began to cry. She wasn't sure why, exactly…maybe because this was really the end of everything. All the threads that wove her into her old life seemed to have been cut today. What surprised her was that the tears weren't regret - at least not for standing by Spike, though she was certainly sad that Tara had to suffer. Looked like she really had meant what she told Spike – she'd let go of her girl. For all that she was irritated with him about the way he'd revealed what they'd done, in the end, she wasn't really that sorry. In a way, she was starting to think it was for the best. At least now there was no ambiguity. Because she could have been knocked over with a feather when Tara made that remark about it being over. Until that moment, it hadn't occurred to her that Tara wanted her back.

Of course, this also made it likely that… "You know Buffy will probably find out now."

"Tara didn't say a word about your face." As _non sequiturs_ went, this one from Spike was about as _non sequitur-y_ as could be.

"Maybe it's fading."

"Not really. The yellow's pretty pronounced now. So's the green."

"Ugh. Yuck."

"You're still a beauty," he replied, his tone serious in that way she couldn't allow herself to get used to. Still, she didn't contradict him. It always made him angry when she did.

Instead, she turned the conversation back in its original direction. "What about Buffy?"

A rueful chuckle followed from Spike. "Don't know what she'll do. Hopefully she won't burn down your parents' house."

"I'm serious. Wait. You don't really think she'll burn down my house, do you?"

Spike sat down beside her and ruffled her hair. "Nah. Like she said, I was just something to make her feel. Don't think she'll take too kindly to me bedding her best mate, though."

"You slept with Xander?" Willow was trying to lighten the mood, though there was an uncomfortable truth buried in her quip, and she was gratified by the look of exaggerated horror on Spike's face.

"Bite your tongue!"

She giggled. "He's not that bad."

"I'm wondering again about your taste."

Laughing again, Willow laid her head on Spike's shoulder. "It's okay. I mean that you told Tara. I'm just worried about what's next."

"You mean you and me?"

Actually, she hadn't meant that at all; in fact she kinda thought they'd discussed this earlier, but maybe more needed to be said."Yeah, I guess so."

The only answer she got was a heavy sigh. Guess he didn't know any better than she did what this was now. It wasn't like she was a 'friends with benefits' kind of girl, and she didn't feel like that was what this was, but that didn't seem to change the fact that they weren't in a romantic relationship and he'd told her earlier that friendship was all he could give, so… "I guess this is one of those friends with benefits things, huh?" she offered, hoping she didn't sound as downbeat about that as she felt. After all, she shouldn't feel sad. Spike was a wonderful friend and the benefits, at least until Xander walked in, had been pretty benefit-y.

Spike, of course, had to make things harder. "Is that what you want?" he asked.

She lifted her head and looked for a clue in his eyes. What was the right answer? "Want some blood?" she asked after a few seconds. Not waiting for a response, she hopped up and headed for the kitchen.

Spike didn't follow.

Tbc…


	18. Chapter 18

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Eighteen)

There was only one more bag of blood left in the fridge.

Willow heated it in one of her parents' best coffee mugs (well, second-best – the best ones had gilding on them and that wouldn't be good for the microwave) and took it out to Spike. "Eat up," she said chirpily. "I'm just gonna go in and see if I can cover up this bruise. I need to make a food-run for you."

Spike nodded, the most inscrutable expression on his face, and Willow bounded for her parents' bathroom. Funny how she had always used movement to try and create happy energy. Skipping, bouncing, flailing her arms. She treated herself like a wind-up toy, didn't she? But it worked…or at least it usually did. Tonight, not so much.

Oh well, she'd keep trying. In the meantime… Yikes! Spike was right. Her face looked like a toddler had gone wacky with crayons on it. (And wasn't that sort of ironic since a crayon had cemented her friendship with Xander and… No, no nostalgia tonight.) Please let her mother have left one of those makeup sponges she herself had never bothered with… Oh, and foundation. Yeah, foundation would be nice. Her own was kinda thin for the level of coverage she was going to need.

****

Luck had been with her and her mom's makeup drawer had yielded the products she'd needed to at least fix herself up well enough to pass muster in dim light. Spike had even agreed to accompany her. But the walk was silent for the most part; she might almost as well have been alone. Maybe today had been so full and things had gone so topsy-turvy that he just wasn't in the mood to talk. At any rate, by the time Willow worked up the nerve to try and start a conversation, they were at Willie's.

"Hey there," Willie caroled as she approached the bar. He was as obsequious as ever. It was almost a relief for one thing in her life not to have changed. "Spike," he offered as he saw her companion. "Are you lookin' for a game? Because…"

"No," he offered curtly and Willow decided to cut to the chase herself.

"Can we have ten bags of…?"

"The best in the house. Comin' right up," Willie said brightly, hustling into the back room.

"Told ya he's scared of you," Spike whispered into her ear. The words made her shudder. Spike's cheek was against hers now. But the words of reassurance she expected never came. All she had was an arm wrapped protectively around her waist and the cool feel of Spike's skin against her own.

A moment later, Willie was back. "I made it a dozen, but you don't have to pay for the extra." He winked, but then his expression turned fearful. Willow supposed the look on Spike's face must have done that, because her own features were blank as parchment.

Reaching into the pocket of her jeans, she pulled out the credit card her parents had given her and handed it to the craven little man. He took it and went back to the cash register.

A moment later, the card was back in her pocket and a plastic grocery bag full of blood bags was hanging on her arm. After that, Willow and Spike were out the door and the silence which had reigned on the trip here threatened to stay on as head of state on the return to Willow's house as well.

It didn't though.

"Penny for 'em." Spike's voice broke through the sad noise in her head.

"Huh?"

"What's wrong?" He stopped walking and she felt compelled by that to halt as well.

"Nothing." She turned up the corners of her mouth, flashed some teeth, and hoped like hell it resembled a smile because it made her jaw ache.

Spike was clearly having none of it and she could see the seriousness in his eyes. "Don't lie to me."

What possessed her, she'd never know, but she hit him with the full truth. "Are you afraid of me? 'Cause in there – when you said they were afraid of me – I sort of expected you to say you weren't and you didn't…and it hurt, okay?"

Maybe she hoped she'd finally prodded him into the reassurance for which she desperately longed. She got something else entirely. "I _am_ afraid of you."

His voice was so soft it was almost a whisper, but it was enough to send Willow into something close to a fury - a fury fueled by a feeling of betrayal worse than she'd ever felt before. "Great. Thanks, Spike. Nice to know that after everything, you're just like everyone else. Sorry I made such a mess of your life. Hopefully you can still patch things up with Buffy and…"

Now her jaw really did hurt – because Spike was kissing her. It was the same passionate kiss that had made her realize that she had feelings for him and she was terrified he was mocking her. A few seconds later it was over and she was breathing hard. "I'm not afraid of the magic or any of that bollocks," Spike almost spat out. "I'm afraid of _you_ - of what I…" His eyes flashed from blue to gold and back again as he ran a hand angrily through his hair. "I gave you fuck all and you threw away everything for me. You didn't back down. You could have told Glinda I was lying and she'd have taken your word in a heartbeat, but you didn't. I could have told… I _should_ have told Buffy."

His hands were on her arms now, gripping tightly. "No one has ever… Not for me. You're brave and strong and you care like no one I've ever known. I don't deserve you. Not one bit. And I'm terrified you're gonna wake up tomorrow and realize that I'm not worth it and I…"

Were those tears in Spike's eyes. "You're my friend, Spike. Of course you're worth it."

"Is that what we are?"

Now Willow felt trapped, cornered, and completely unsure. What did he want her to say? Her mind raced this way and that. "I… You said…" Oh goddess. She had no idea what to do.

There was a rueful sort of sound from Spike and his hands stayed on her arms, looser now. "I know what I said. But the truth is… It's more. It's more and it scares me more than anything ever has. You're not like any woman in my life. Not like Cecily, not like Dru, not like Buffy. I don't… I don't know how to be with someone like you."

Willow had no idea who Cecily was, but now wasn't the time to ask. Instead, she stared into Spike's eyes and found her own filling with tears. She didn't think she'd ever seen that much emotion – emotion for _her_. Not even in Oz's eyes, or Tara's. "I… You're more to me, too." She didn't know what to say to the rest and she hoped he wouldn't remember what she'd said right before they made love, what she'd affirmed right after. She was too scared that this was all the prelude to some farewell speech – one more person who just couldn't be with her.

His arms were around her now, holding her close. "I told you once that I kissed you because I aspired," he whispered against her hair.

"I know."

Neither of them said anything more, but somehow Willow knew Spike hadn't said goodbye, at least not yet. She let him take her hand and they walked back to the house.

It was silence again.

Tbc...


	19. Chapter 19

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Nineteen)

"Who was Cecily?" When Willow saw the look on Spike's face, she regretted asking the question, but it was too late now.

They sat on the couch – it seemed to be where every momentous event of late occurred – and Spike took her hand. Funny that she felt the trust in each of those skillful, murderous, gentle fingers. "I – William – loved her. Long ago. Wrote her poetry. Bloody worshipped her. But when I told her, she said…"

A connection clicked in Willow's mind. "She said you were beneath her." Her voice was barely more than a whisper and tears sprang to her eyes. Now she knew why Spike had sent her running from the crypt on her first visit.

"Met Dru that very night. The rest is… Well, calling it history's a bit of a cliché, but it's true enough." It was obvious Spike was trying with everything he was to pretend that it all really _was_ history – nothing but names and dates and crumbling parchment. It wasn't. It bled like warm, living flesh. Willow could almost see the jagged wounds.

She put her free hand over his. "You're not beneath… You're not beneath anyone. I can't understand how anyone… Someone like you? Anyone would be lucky to have you love them."

"You really mean that, don't you?" His eyes were fragile and shockingly innocent. They were William's eyes and Willow could almost see him as he must have been.

"I do," she said and there was force and truth behind those words.

"You told me you could love me."

She took a deep breath. "Yeah, I did. And I… I could."

Staring into her eyes, he saw more. "You do."

Willow nodded. "I do." Tears spilled down her cheeks.

Now she was in his arms and he held her tightly. "You're a bloody fool, you know. But I'm glad."

At least that made one of them. Love. It had been terrifying enough before, but with Spike? Spike whose ex-lovers were gorgeous and exciting and nothing like Willow?

And why hadn't she thought of any of this before they'd made love?

Not that it would have mattered. She had a feeling her fate was sealed the first time she visited Spike's crypt with a bag of human blood and all the best intentions.

"I love you, too," he said, his voice quiet and clear. "I think I have for awhile. It's just so different from what it's been before. Couldn't wrap my head around it. Didn't think there could be love without pain and suffering. Not for me, anyway. Never thought I'd be enough for someone like you."

She pulled away slightly, staring into his face. Was he serious? Oh goddess. He was. He really thought… Wow. "That makes two of us," she said. "I mean, I never thought… After all – guys like you, girls like me. They're not usually all that mix-y."

"There's no one like you, pet," he said, chuckling. It didn't feel like he was mocking her, though, and that was good.

"What are we gonna do?" she asked, knowing she was turning things serious again. But it needed to be discussed, and sooner rather than later. "We've sort of told some people the truth, and I'm okay with that, by the way, but we also kind of need to figure stuff out. Because no way are things just going to flow merrily along, you know?"

He sighed. "Looks like I've thrown a spanner in the works at that, haven't I?" She let him pull her close again. "I know that this is gonna make quite a mess of your life. Hell. Has already, hasn't it? Your boy Xander's none too pleased. And Tara…"

"I'm a grown woman and I made my own choices, okay?"

"Wish I could say I was sorry about that."

"But you're not, are you?" she said softly.

"You choosin' me over your pals and your girlfriend? No, can't say that I am." He was a demon again and she marveled at all the colours and patterns of him.

"I'm not sorry either," she said, sitting up straight. "Maybe I should be, but I'm not and I… I don't think I'm going to be." She spoke with a sharp optimism she hoped was real. "I mean, yeah, I already miss Xander and Buffy. But I've been missing them for a long time. This just sort of makes it all official. I don't think it ended anything that wasn't already over."

"Wish that were true, love," he said sadly. "But I know you. When you care… There's gonna be tears. I just want you to cry 'em with me, that's all."

That understanding was as precious a gift as any she'd ever been given. "Thank you," she said.

"Think your girl told the Slayer?" Spike mused a moment later.

As much as earlier she'd thought that would be Tara's first act after leaving, now… "No. I really don't." She was oddly certain of that, and she wasn't quite sure why. "I think… I don't know. But I just don't see her telling Buffy."

His expression was equable and his reply was oddly respectful. "Nah, guess she probably won't at that."

"Thanks," she said and he seemed puzzled.

"What for?"

"Seeing some good in Tara."

What she got in response was a scornful bark of laughter. "She just hasn't got the stones for revenge, that's all."

"And some people would see that as a virtue, hence my thanks."

Spike chuckled. "You're the lover of a demon now, pet. We really need to do something about your judgment."

She swatted him playfully, but her words were serious. "I am who I am, Spike. That's not going to change."

"Don't want it to." The look in his eyes was so sincere she could barely breathe. "I love you, y'know. Even if you are all idealistic and sentimental and foolish. Figure you wouldn't have been dumb enough to fall for a bloke like me otherwise, so…"

"Hey now! No insulting the man I love."

His eyes stared straight into hers. "Still can't believe I got that lucky."

As much as _she_ wanted to believe, there was a question she couldn't keep herself from asking. "I… This won't change anything. I just need to know, okay? Do you wish that… If Buffy said she…"

Spike's eyes swirled with emotion before he finally spoke. "No. If she walked in right now and offered me everything, I'd… Can't you see how amazing you are?" He ran his hand through his hair and stood up, pacing. "I loved her – or I thought I did. Not saying I didn't. But it's done, her and me. I meant what I said about you, about how I feel, about how different you are, about ..."

He knelt before her and she sat as still as stone, transfixed. "You just snuck up on me – all that truth and kindness and caring and… You never have to worry about the Slayer. That's over. It was over the day you first came to see me. Just took me awhile to realize, that's all." He shook his head lightly. "You brought me something so much more than blood that day. You brought me… You brought me you."

What could she say to that? "You must have been such a wonderful poet," she choked out, eyes swimming with tears. "I just wish I was as perfect as…"

Chuckling again, he interposed, "You're not perfect, love. I know that. I love _you_, not some marble statue made to look like you." He was shrewd and knowing now. "Don't worry about having to live up to some ideal. That's not the girl I fell for. You can make mistakes with me – be who you are. It's okay. It'll always be okay."

She'd been right. He must have been an extraordinary poet. After all, he knew all the right words. Now would have been the ideal moment for her to say something eloquent in return, and she was sure trying to think of just the thing, but the telephone rang.

"Bloody, buggering hell!" Spike cursed, reacting as if the intruder on their intimacy was a physical presence and getting up from the floor. He was all sharp angles and predatory posture now; William had been swallowed whole.

Willow wiped at her eyes with her sleeve and headed for the table where the phone sat. It was probably Xander, she figured, wanting to make an appointment to yell at her about Spike. Who else could it be? It wasn't like anyone would be calling her parents, would they?

She picked up the receiver. "Hello?"

The voice that responded stunned her and she almost choked on the words as she acknowledged her caller's greeting. "Hey, Giles."

Tbc…


	20. Chapter 20

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Twenty)

The voice on the other end of the phone was as familiar as her favorite sneakers…and as foreign as the Great Wall of China. Willow sucked in a breath as she waited for him to speak again.

"How…uh…How have you been?" It seemed he was trying for a casual approach. Which would have been more successful if she wasn't somewhere he couldn't have known she'd be without talking to one of her friends within the last twenty-four hours. And then there was the whole 'not-speaking-to-her-since-he-left-town-a

fter-calling-her-a-rank-arrogant-amateur' thing…

"You might as well just start haranguing me," she shot back. "Not like I don't know this isn't a social call." Who had called him, she wondered: Buffy, Xander? It couldn't have been Tara.

Spike was by her side now, his arm around her, and he was obviously listening to every word of the call. She could almost hear Giles polishing his glasses. "Yes, well, it would have been. I… It was going to be, but…"

"No, it wasn't." She shook her head to clear out the hurt she felt, the hurt she'd been feeling inside ever since he'd insulted and abandoned her. "Who called you?"

"I… spoke to Xander today."

Not a surprise; not at all. "Yeah, I kind of figured that. I mean, I knew it was either him or Buffy, and since Xander's the one who saw me making love to Spike, I guess it makes the most sense that it was him."

Her frank words seemed to have shocked the man on the other end of the line and Spike grinned. "I wasn't aware that… What about Tara? I realize, of course, that you two were experiencing some difficulties but… Willow, what on Earth induced you to…to…with Spike, of all creatures?"

She turned and looked at Spike before she answered. "I love him."

There was silence for a time and she got lost in the blue of Spike's eyes. There was a kind of magic there that had nothing to do with charms and incantations.

"Dear Lord." Giles's words were soft but they broke the spell. "How..?"

"We were friends and it just… It happened," she said, not wanting to tell Giles anything more uncomfortable than what she had already divulged.

"So it would seem." Way to be oblique there, Giles.

"I'm not using magic," she said, "if that's what you're worried about."

"Xander said you weren't."

Oh. "What else did he say?" From the look on Spike's face, it was obvious he was curious, too.

"He told me you had moved out of Buffy's house and that there was some sort of involvement on Spike's part. Of course, he did not see fit to inform me of just how far things had gone between you two…"

"He didn't?" Willow was now beet red. If she'd known Giles hadn't known… "Sorry for the way you found out," she offered. "I sort of thought you already knew."

"I gathered that." A long pause ensued and she could feel Spike suppressing a laugh at her embarrassment. What Giles said next stifled them both. "I take it Buffy knows as well?"

Spike took the phone from her before she could stop him. "No. The Slayer doesn't know. Not yet. She will though."

Holding the phone between them, Spike at least allowed Willow to hear Giles's reaction. "Spike."

"Nice of you to remember my name, Watcher." There was something deliberately ironic in Spike refusing to use Giles's name in return.

"I take it you've been eavesdropping on this entire conversation?"

"What can I say? I don't fancy letting people talk behind my back."

"Yes, well… I must say that I am more than a bit surprised by your sudden interest in Willow. The last time I saw you, you were…"

"Pining after the Slayer, I know." Spike wrapped his arm around her shoulders; the reassurance was welcome…and needed. "But that's all done with now."

"And I suppose you expect me to believe that and to give my blessing to whatever it is you have going on with Willow?"

There were tears in Willow's eyes at Giles's words. Even an ocean away… Yes, it still hurt that to him she would always be second best. The only thing that kept her from breaking down was the man standing beside her. He seemed furious. "I don't care what you believe and your blessing isn't worth a damn thing to me, but yeah, Buffy and I are done. Been there, shagged that, and it's over – for good."

Willow was in almost as much shock as she imagined Giles was to hear Spike so casually reveal the truth. If Buffy found out… If Buffy found out, Willow would do anything to protect Spike, even if it meant using magic again.

There was an uncomfortable silence and then Giles at last found his voice. "What… what do you mean by…?"

"Shagged?" Spike's voice was a sarcastic drawl. "I realize it's been a long time, Watcher, but surely you haven't forgotten the mechanics of shagging. I can recommend some videos if you need a refresher course."

"You…and Buffy?" Willow wasn't sure whether to laugh or cry at Giles's stunned tone. She had so many complicated issues with Giles and this was bringing up all of them – all at once.

"Yeah. Seems your precious Slayer isn't so bloody perfect after all. She came to me, said I was the only one who could make her feel." Bitterness and still-fresh humiliation Willow was so grateful Giles would never see clouded Spike's expression as he continued. "Don't worry. She didn't care about me one bit. You taught her well – she'd never lower herself to care about a soulless demon. She just needed what I could give – a good, hard shag."

Willow could almost hear the questions swimming in Giles's brain, but the one he asked… No, she never expected it. "What about Willow? Is she just…?"

"No." Spike's voice was as certain as she'd ever heard when he spoke. "I love her. You can believe me or not, but Willow… Willow's real. What I feel for her… I've never felt it for anyone. Not Dru, not even your precious Buffy. And she's mine." His eyes flickered gold when he said those last words and Willow thought her heart would burst. Somehow… hearing him say it to Giles was even more convincing than when he said it to her. Guess a part of her would always be that insecure geek in the fuzzy sweaters trailing after Buffy.

It took her a moment to realize Spike had hung up the phone, but then she wrapped her arms around him without a word. She understood in a way she knew no one else ever could what it had cost him to admit what he had to Giles. And he'd done it because he loved her. That, she realized, convinced her too. Others had risked their lives for her, but what Spike had laid bare, what he had risked… That was so much more terrifying than death, wasn't it?

"He'll be having a talk with the Slayer now, I reckon," Spike said softly.

To her own surprise, she replied, "Good. Buffy needs him." She meant it, too. Because, issues and fears aside, a part of her still loved Buffy even as it hated what she'd done to Spike. Giles was the last, best chance to truly bring Buffy back from the dead. Willow had only resurrected her body. Giles could bring back her heart and her soul.

And the fallout? Well, she guessed she would just have to deal with it…and protect Spike from it.

"Surprised the whelp didn't spill the best bits to Rupert." How did Spike always know the perfect time to lighten things up?

"Me, too. I mean, he's about to marry Anya, the queen of all that is totally inappropriate, and he goes and turns all reticent and discreet." She chuckled and then reddened. "I can't believe I just blurted out…"

"That we made love? Wish I could have seen the look on that prissy bastard's face when ya did. He must have been a sight."

Willow giggled and then sighed.

"How's your jaw?" Spike asked.

Huh? "It's still a little sore, but not too bad. Why?"

She should have _known_ why. "Guess I can work around it," he replied.

And he did, trailing soft kisses along that very jaw and then her neck.

"Mmm…," Willow moaned, as he began to guide her towards the stairs. "Where are we going?" she asked, suddenly concerned.

"Ever used your parents' bed?"

"No."

"Then that's where we're going."

She wanted to cry again. He was so intuitive and she wanted more than anything to be able to give him half of what he gave her. She didn't cry, though. Instead, she let him undo the buttons on her shirt and shed it, along with her bra, letting both drop to the floor as they made their way up the stairs and then into her parents' sterile bedroom. "I love you," she said.

"Love you, too," he replied, shedding his own t-shirt and smiling slightly as her fingers began to undo the buttons of his jeans.

Her own jeans came off next, along with the panties he chided her for wearing. "We need to break you of that habit, love. They just get in the way."

Before she could reply, she was on her back on the bed and thinking of things to say just wasn't in her skill set anymore. Not while Spike was trailing those soft kisses down every inch of her body. It felt as if he were worshipping her and the tears she'd been keeping at bay fell at last from her eyes.

The feel of his lips against her flesh was poetry – there was William in every touch. But there was also Spike. It was a gift he was giving her – both sides of himself – and she cherished it like nothing else she'd ever been given.

"I love you," he murmured against the swell of her breast. The sensation of his cool tongue against her nipple…she hissed and arched her back. "Relax, pet. We have a long way to go."

That turned out to be an understatement. Time stood still and then stretched and pulled as Spike's mouth and fingers worked their magic on her body. When he finally moved between her thighs, that cool tongue taking her to heights she'd never known existed, she thought she would die from the pleasure of it all. And then when he entered her… She'd always thought that stuff about seeing stars and colours was just a romance novel cliché, but now? Now she knew it was true.

She moved against him, her legs wrapped around him. If only she could pull him even closer, melt into him somehow. Because she felt like he _was_ part of her, the best part of her, the brightest part of her.

She loved him. She truly loved him. It was real. It was everything.

Tbc…


	21. Chapter 21

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Twenty-One)

Afterglow.

This was the first time she had gotten the chance to share it with Spike and it was…really, really glow-y. She sighed, snuggling against him. "That was…" But what word could you use? Because it was…

"Yeah, it was," he agreed. He got it, yet again. Spike always seemed to be in sync with her.

Of course, in the grand tradition of her life in the last few days…

"Willow?"

It was a voice from downstairs – Xander's voice. Spike turned and pounded his fist against the pillow. "Bugger! Is that moron going to break in every time we…?"

Willow giggled to hide her embarrassment. As coincidences went it was sort of funny, okay, but she was really kind of hoping this wasn't going to become a tradition or anything. "I'm sure once things settle down…" She got out of bed, fishing for her jeans and panties and… "Oh shoot!" she said, realizing that her bra and shirt were on the stairs. One of her parents had better have left a sweatshirt or something she could wear.

"Shoot?" Spike offered as he dressed hurriedly. "I'm gonna have to teach you how to curse."

Absentmindedly sticking her tongue out at him, she rooted through her Dad's dresser drawer and found what she wanted – a loose-fitting black sweatshirt; the perfect garment for a girl bereft of a brassiere. "We better get out there."

"Just a minute, Xander!" she yelled down to their not-exactly-welcome guest. She and Spike were both dressed? Check. Okay, now she was as ready as she was going to be. She sort of figured Xander wasn't just here because he was bored and had nothing else to do.

Taking the hand of the man – well, _vampire_ – who she guessed was now her boyfriend, Willow escorted him out of her parents' now-disheveled bedroom and down to where Xander was waiting, picking up her discarded garments and tossing them up the stairs and out of sight on the way.

The minute Xander saw them, his cheeks coloured. Good. Because embarrassment was appropriate here. Gosh knows Willow was feeling it. How many times was she going to get caught having sex anyway? It wasn't like she was Anya or anything. She was so not completely okay with the 'everybody knowing the details of her sex life' thing.

"I see that Spike's still here," he said pointlessly.

"Where'd you think I'd be, whelp?" And then, with only a smirk to warn her, Spike added, "This makes the second time you've interrupted me and Willow, so there'd better be a bloody good reason for it."

"Spike!" she hissed. Even though she knew Xander _knew_ – not like he didn't realize that Willow wasn't wearing her own clothes – having it spelled out wasn't exactly of the fun.

"It's okay, Will. I get it." He looked a bit green though and Willow smiled. Yes, misery did love company. "I just… I did something earlier and now I'm not so sure I did the right thing and I sort of thought I ought to warn you. Try and understand, okay? This whole thing? This you and Spike thing? It's still pretty disturbing and I was worried and that's why I…"

"Called the Watcher?" Spike finished, clearly enjoying the abashed and shocked look on Xander's face. "Nice of you to warn us about an hour late. We already got the call from dear old Dad."

"Oh," Xander said, looking everywhere but at Spike. "But at least there's one thing he doesn't know, because I didn't tell him…"

"About me and Spike making love?" Willow finished, taking her turn at interrupting her best friend. "Don't worry. I sort of took care of that for you – along with letting him know that you walked in on us." She shrugged, enjoying the fact that he was getting even redder.

"You told him…?"

"It's not like you're known for your discretion," Spike chimed in. "Pretty natural to assume you'd spilled the whole tale."

It was easy to see that Xander was about to argue, but then he appeared to think about it and not a word in his own defense could be heard. Instead… "Can we talk?" His eyes were fixed on Willow. "Alone?"

To Willow's shock, Spike nodded. "I'll be upstairs." But before he headed up the stairs, he turned to Xander. "You hurt her, in any way, and, chip or no, I'll hurt _you_…and in ways you can't begin to imagine."

Xander shuddered as he watched Spike leave the room. Waiting for a moment, he finally spoke. "I'm guessing there's no way to talk you out of this, is there?" His voice was soft and Willow wasn't quite sure how he was feeling.

"Nope." She walked up to her best friend and took his hand. "I love him, Xander."

"I kinda figured that out." Xander was gazing into her eyes now. "You've never really been the casual sex type."

Okay, this was becoming weird. Xander seemed… "Are you actually getting okay with this or are you setting me up for an intervention?"

There was the shine of hurt in Xander's eyes, but he replied, "I guess I deserved that." He paused and took a breath, seemingly considering his words carefully. "I'm… I'm not okay with Spike. I don't know if I ever will be. But I know you and I know… I know you wouldn't love him if there wasn't something good in him. So I'm gonna try, okay?"

Tears filled Willow's eyes as she hugged Xander tightly. "Thank you," she choked out, feeling closer to him than she had in…so very, very long. "He's really a good guy. If you give him a chance…"

"Yeah, well, as long as he treats you right, that's what counts."

They disentangled awkwardly and she realized just how bad things had become between them. How long had she not known how he was feeling? What he was thinking? And then something else shocked her.

"You're still gonna be my Best Person, right?"

"I… You still want me to be?"

Xander stared at her in apparent shock. "Of course. I couldn't get married without you." His voice was full of truth and she was almost bawling as he pulled her into his arms. Because she'd honestly thought he had only asked her because it was what everyone expected. She hadn't been sure he still really saw her as his best friend – or even as his friend at all. She was sure now and it overwhelmed her.

How had she gone from empty and alone to… this? Love and friendship filling up every corner.

"I love you, Will," he said softly and somehow it was just as wonderful in its way as it was when Spike said it.

"I love you, too." She got herself under control and let go, wiping her eyes on the sleeve of her sweatshirt.

"I'm really sorry I hit you." He was staring at her jaw now.

"It's okay. It looks worse than it feels." Hey – bonus because now that was actually sort of true. "It should fade in time for the wedding. A little makeup and no one will know."

"I'll know."

She saw the fear in his eyes and she suddenly realized what he was thinking… "Xander, you're nothing like him." Taking his hand and locking eyes with him the way he had her, she repeated the words. "You are _nothing_ like him."

"I hope you're right."

"Which one of us got accepted to Oxford?" she quipped, using their old trick of lightening the mood. "I'm always right."

He smiled and refrained from pointing out any one of the myriad pieces of evidence that thoroughly disproved her contention. "I better go," he said. "Anya needs me to go over the seating arrangements…again. Plus, I'm pretty sure Spike's getting tired of lurking at the top of the stairs."

Willow was about to laugh at that last statement when a creak and then the sound of descending footsteps proved that he wasn't actually joking…or wrong. "How did you…?"

"What? You and Buffy aren't the only ones with super powers, you know."

There was a world of pain and insecurity there and it almost knocked her down. The amount of shame she felt right now was staggering. How had she never realized…? "You've always been the awesome one," she said; no smile, no jokes, just truth.

"You've got stones, Harris," Spike grudgingly offered as he entered the room.

Xander said nothing, but it was obvious he was uncomfortable and Willow started towards the door, allowing him to follow – to not look like he was fleeing. "You're gonna be at the rehearsal dinner, right?" Xander asked as he stood in the doorway.

"Wouldn't miss it," Willow said.

With one last brief hug, Xander was gone.

Closing the door, she turned and walked…straight into Spike's arms. "He's not so bad," Spike said softly as he held her, and Willow smiled through the tears that just kept falling.

Tbc…


	22. Chapter 22

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Twenty-Two)

"Thanks," Willow said after a few moments.

"What for?" The embrace broken, Spike was looking at her with a genuinely puzzled expression.

"For being nice to Xander. I mean, the eavesdropping is sort of an issue – and we should probably talk about that – but you not insulting Xander was of the good and that part sort of makes up for…" Spike chuckled as she got tangled up in her words. "What I mean is…"

Spike planted a kiss on her cheek. "I get it, love. Can't say I'm never going to eavesdrop again, though. I may be chipped, but I'm still…"

"A demon," she finished with a sigh. "I know. And it would be wrong of me to expect you not to act like one. But sometimes….could you just trust me and maybe not do the skulking and spying thing? I promise you're just as scary and evil without it."

A guffaw and a pull back into Spike's arms followed. "There's no one in the whole world like you, pet." The laughter continued, but it was warm and affectionate and Willow decided she didn't mind it too much.

Seconds passed and the mirth died away. She could somehow feel the shift in Spike's mood through his skin. Then he spoke. "I think it's time for everyone to know." Oh wow. Because Willow spoke 'Spike' well enough to know that 'everyone' meant Buffy.

"What do you want to do?" Her eyes were wide and she just knew she looked terrified… Because she sure _felt_ that way. His hold on her loosened and she pulled back, gazing into his eyes.

He gazed back. "Might as well head for the Magic Box. She'll be there. Niblet as well, probably. Tellin' 'em both at once might not be such a bad thing."

Oh goddess. Dawn, who might be more to be feared than Buffy. Willow hadn't even thought about Dawn's reaction. She had rather proprietary feelings toward Spike… and less than the warmest feelings for Willow. "Are you sure?" she asked, even as further thought told her this was all inevitable and maybe Spike was right and confronting the sisters together would ensure that both were on their best behavior.

"Yeah. I'm sure." Spike's rueful chuckle gave the lie to his words but it wasn't like Willow was going to call him on it. Assiduous avoidance of bad thoughts was called for here.

She used to be so much better at optimism than she was now. Would one of her old fuzzy sweaters help? A flash of memory came – Spike in her dorm room telling her he remembered the pink sweater with the lilac underneath. The smile came – unbidden and mysterious to her companion.

"What's that for?"

"I was just remembering that night back in the dorms, you know, when you…" She paused, not wanting to mention the Initiative. "It actually meant a lot to me that you remembered me and all. What I'd worn before and stuff." That was the truth. For all the pain she was in that night, the one bright spot had been Spike's morbid flirting. Time had worn away the memory of the fear of being drained and turned.

His eyes were curious and thoughtful and what he said… She thought he might actually mean it. "Should have gone after you then. I thought you were a pretty cute piece, you know. Would have saved us both a lot of heartache if I hadn't got myself sidetracked."

For a moment Willow felt a pang for the 'what might have been,' but the truth? The truth was… "It would never have happened then," she said sagely.

"No, s'pose not," Spike agreed. "We're different now."

Visions of magic and Tara and pain and loss flashed through Willow's head. "We are." She wondered if he was thinking about Buffy and all these years of living with the chip.

They were both silent for a few moments, lost in private thoughts, and then Spike reminded her, "You better go change your clothes and fix your makeup. It's about time for us to leave."

Standing at the door to the Magic Box, Willow took a deep breath and looked into the eyes of the man next to her. "Are you sure?" she asked, hoping he was but still willing to let him back out if he wanted. Love was like that, wasn't it?

He sighed and brought her hand to his lips, kissing it. "Yeah. I'm sure." So Willow opened the door.

Walking into the Magic Box felt like walking into some alien world, nothing like the familiar place she'd known such a short time ago. Oh how she hoped the sensation was just latent melodrama, but deep down she was afraid that it was proof that she truly had cut almost all the ties to her old life, Xander's desire to have her in the wedding party notwithstanding. "Hey, guys," she called out, her voice a hollow mockery of the cheerful carol of old. Spike was holding her hand and he wasn't letting go. It was probably a good thing that she couldn't see Buffy or Dawn… Or Tara, because rubbing it in would be cruel.

"Will," Xander said, looking up from a heavy book and obviously shocked to see her. His eyes pointedly fixed on Willow and Spike's hands before he looked away awkwardly.

"Nice to see you, too, whelp," Spike offered. Willow was sure she didn't imagine the half-hearted tone of the expected barb and she fought back the urge to smile at Spike. They were supposed to be breaking the news gently, right? Not that the hand-holding wasn't gonna be a big clue if it was still going on when Buffy returned.

"Are Buffy and Dawn here?" Willow asked.

"Buffy's in the back. Dawn's at home." Well, there went her hope of killing two birds with one stone.

Anya was staring and clearly itching to ask a question – hadn't Xander told her? Willow braced herself.

The question never came. Instead, Xander shot Anya a look and did something with his eyebrows and Anya sat down looking both confused and annoyed, but she was silent and that was good. Because now would have been a really bad time for one of Anya's blunt remarks.

Buffy emerged from the back room. "Willow," she said, looking more shocked than Xander had. "Spike," she added, her voice as tight as the line of her mouth.

"Hi, Buffy," Willow said, feeling Spike's grip tighten on her hand. Suddenly she was wondering if this was such a great idea after all. "So… Need any help with the research?" Did she sound as false and chirrupy as she thought?

"I think we need to talk, Slayer," Spike offered, ignoring what Willow had just said. "The three of us," he clarified.

Willow saw that Xander was about to say something and she shook her head at him. She was pretty sure he'd been about to offer to join the 'party' and there were still things he didn't need to know. Buffy had secrets she would never want shared with Xander.

"Fine," Buffy replied, her voice still tight.

So off they went – to the back room. Spike was still holding her hand… Had Buffy noticed that?

There was nothing but a forbidding silence for what seemed like hours, though Willow didn't actually check her watch. It probably wasn't nearly as long a time as it seemed, was it? "Buffy," Willow finally offered, her voice halting as she hadn't actually thought of anything else to say.

Maybe she should have tried harder, because Spike stepped in to finish her sentence. "Willow and I… You need to know this. We're together now." Willow looked at him gratefully. She didn't think using the words 'in love' would be kind at this juncture.

It was probably a good idea to use restraint for other reasons, because the look on Buffy's face… When she spoke, Buffy's voice was as cold and hard as frozen glass. "No. You're not."

"Buffy," Willow tried again.

"No." That word again. Buffy seemed to think that saying it often enough would make it true. But it wasn't and Willow wasn't going to be cowed. Once upon a time, maybe, but not today.

"Yes. Yes, we are." She turned to Spike and this time she was the one squeezing _his_ hand. "I know this is sudden, and I know you two have a history, but I…" She took a deep breath and steeled herself for what she might have to do if everything went wrong. "I… I," she tried again.

"I love her," Spike said softly.

As terrified as Willow was right now, her heart was full to bursting and she hoped Spike could see her own love for him shining from her eyes. Now all that was left was to wait and see how Buffy reacted.

Whatever response Willow had been expecting, it wasn't the one she got.

Buffy was laughing.

"Good one, Spike. I'm supposed to believe that you've suddenly fallen for Willow after you spent how long chasing after me and telling me you loved me every time I fucked you?" She focused her eyes on Willow's. "Please tell me you're not really buying this."

To everyone's surprise, the next words came from the doorway. "It's the truth."

Oh goddess. Xander was here.

Tbc…


	23. Chapter 23

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Twenty-Three)

Willow figured they all felt like deer staring down the headlights of a really big truck right now. Because if Xander had heard what he had to have heard in order to say what he'd just said…

"It looks like there's stuff I haven't been told," Xander said, staring at Spike. "And you and I are gonna have a talk about all of it, buddy…_soon_. But since Willow knows…"

"She knew right from the start," Spike replied. "But that's over. It's been over since before she and I made…"

Xander held up his hand in what might have been a comical gesture under less serious circumstances. "Let's skip the details, okay. Because I'm still scrubbing my eyeballs."

"You knew?" Buffy seemed incredulous.

To Willow's astonishment, it was Xander and not Spike who called her on it. "Yeah, Buffy. And that makes me the _second_ person in this room who was keeping secrets." The pointed glare he gave her… It made Willow realize how wrong she'd been. No matter how bad things appeared to have been between them, underneath it all, Xander still had her back. She hated herself for ever doubting him.

Buffy stood, silent and obviously shocked, but there was more, too, and Willow felt…pity? Yeah, it was pity. Buffy looked more human than she had since… since even before she'd come back – been forced back by Willow. But that humanity was a painful and nearly tragic thing, wasn't it? Buffy was hurting, really hurting. "I'm sorry," Willow said softly. "I think I've said it before, or maybe I didn't, but I should have – because I mean it. I really am sorry. I know it's been hard for you and that's my fault." Spike looked as if he was going to contradict her for a second, but he didn't and Willow was grateful. All that remained was for Buffy to say something – anything.

Willow waited. They all waited.

Nothing. Buffy didn't say a word. She just kept standing there, as still as could be. Willow couldn't even read what was going on behind her eyes. "Buffy?" she said after a moment.

"What about Tara?" Buffy's voice was strangled and low.

Spike did the answering. "Tara knows. We told her." His next words made Willow cringe though she understood why he said them. "Willow's not ashamed of me. She's not just using me to get herself off, to make herself feel."

"Is that what this is about? Because what we were doing sure seemed all right with you when…" Buffy's voice trailed off when she looked at Xander.

But even truncated, what she said hurt Willow with its dismissive tenor – as if Willow didn't matter. Guess she wasn't the only one, because Spike's eyes were cold fury as he interrupted. "When you were shagging me behind the Doublemeat? Or in the balcony at the Bronze?"

Xander's face went red and white at the same time, but he said nothing.

"Could you leave us alone?" Buffy's tone as she spoke to Xander was almost pleading.

Willow nodded her assent, thinking that would leave the three of them to hash things out. She was shocked when Xander didn't move and even more shocked by what he next said to Buffy. "I'm not going anywhere. And here's a thought: If you're that ashamed of what you did, maybe you shouldn't have done it, huh?"

"Xander." Willow was surprised by the sound of her own voice.

"Do you really want me to go, Will?" He was staring into her eyes now and she didn't think she'd ever felt closer to her best friend.

"Yeah. It's okay."

With that, Xander nodded and turned to Spike. "We're still having that talk." Then he left the room.

"I'm sorry," Willow said when the door closed behind her departing friend. And she was. She shouldn't have let Spike say what he did, especially not with Xander here and probably not at all. Buffy was hurting and Willow needed to remember that; not let her own feelings for Spike get in the way of understanding.

Spike didn't seem to be on the same page. "Don't see what you're apologizing for," he grumbled. Then, speaking to Buffy, he said, "And it was never all right, you know. I took it because it was all I could get, but that doesn't mean it was what I wanted. Maybe the pretense fooled us both for awhile, but deep down… I always hated it, always wanted it to be different, even though I knew it never would be. Because you aren't the girl I fell in love with. Sometimes I think you never really were."

There were tears hovering at the corner of Buffy's eyes and Willow could feel her heart tighten. No matter how much damage had been done to their friendship, she still cared, still didn't want to see Buffy cry. She went over to her and tentatively reached out.

Buffy reached back.

In seconds the girls were hugging. It was awkward and spoke of recent distance mixed with old memory, but it was contact and it was real and now Willow was the one who was crying. "I'm sorry," she said again, not sure for what exactly this time, except maybe everything.

Nothing else was said for what seemed like forever; over Buffy's shoulder, Willow watched Spike slip out of the room. He turned back and met her gaze before shutting the door behind him. He wasn't angry with her. Phew.

Turning her attention back to Buffy, Willow held her and waited for her to speak. A moment later, she did. "He doesn't love me anymore, does he?" The question was really more of a statement and Willow didn't answer as she and Buffy disentangled at last.

Buffy stared down at the ground as she spoke again. "I didn't… But I guess I never thought about him not loving _me_ anymore. I sort of counted on it, you know?" Now she looked at Willow. "That was wrong, I know that. And it was unfair and… cruel." She got it; she really did. Fresh tears came to Willow's eyes. Her friend hadn't made it all the way home yet, but she was closer than she had been – so much closer.

"We all make mistakes," Willow offered and, cliché that it was, it seemed to bring a smile to Buffy's face, albeit a wan sort of one. That was something. And hey, in this case, the old saw certainly held true. It wasn't as if Willow hadn't made a whole bunch of wrong turns and bad choices herself. Taking Buffy's hand, she reiterated, "I'm sorry, you know. I really am. I shouldn't have brought you back. I should have… I don't know. Something else. But I shouldn't have done what I did and… I am so sorry."

Then the most shocking thing that had happened in a day full of shocking things happened. Buffy pulled her into another, brief, hug and said, "I'm not sorry." Her voice turned odd and wondering. "I'm not sorry," she said again as if she were realizing it for the first time. She probably was. It was brand new to Willow, too.

"You're not?" Willow asked.

Buffy didn't answer. Instead she offered an apology of her own. "I'm sorry about the way I've treated you lately. The stuff I said. I was lashing out and… Not a great excuse, but…"

"Apology accepted," Willow said, offering what she hoped was a bright, cheery smile as proof that all was well. Her emotions were in turmoil, but she did mean it. As far as she was concerned, they were all square.

Another long moment of silence followed, but then… "Will, did you want me to tell Dawn about you and Spike? I mean she's still convinced you and Tara are going to get back together and I don't think she should be keeping her hopes up anymore."

Oh goddess. Dawn. Willow had known this was a necessity, but she'd just kept hoping something would come along to make it easier. "No. It's okay. I better handle this."

The 'and the sooner the better' was unspoken, but Buffy heard it all the same. "Want me to walk you to my house?"

"Yeah. Thanks." Letting Buffy lead the way, Willow followed her out of the room. A quick explanation to the others and then they'd be on their way… to break the news to Dawn.

Willow could only hope that it ultimately went as well as telling Xander and Buffy.

Tbc…


	24. Chapter 24

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Twenty-Four)

They'd been walking for a few minutes in amazingly companionable silence when Buffy spoke. "Do you think Xander hates me?"

Willow's heart broke a little at the sight of the doubt and fear in Buffy's eyes and she stopped walking, as did her friend. "No, he doesn't. He really doesn't. He's just…"

"Disappointed in me?" The way she said it made Willow think Buffy would rather be hated. Oh did she know what that was like.

"He just doesn't understand, that's all. You shut us all out, you know? But now – now you can explain stuff to him and he'll be okay with it. I promise." Somehow she knew that was true. Oh, maybe Xander wouldn't get the 'why' of it, but he'd accept it, just like he was doing with Willow. That was what was so special about Xander.

"Are _you_ okay with it?"

Wow. That was the sixty-four thousand dollar question, wasn't it? "I'm okay with _you_," she answered and that was truth itself. She had a hunch it was the answer Buffy would have for the same question and she understood and accepted that. "I love you, Buffy."

A Slayer-strength hug was her initial answer, followed by, "I love you, too."

So now it was back to comfortable silence as they resumed their walk to Revello Drive.

"Are you sure you don't want me to tell her?" Buffy offered one last time as they reached her front door…the front door that had once been Willow's too. Strange how she and Buffy were a whole lot closer now that she didn't live there anymore.

Was she sure? No. Frankly, she'd love to pass the buck and let Buffy tell the tale. But deep down she knew this was her responsibility, so she was going to do it. "It's okay. Dawn already hates me. This can't really make it worse." She hoped it didn't sound like she thought Dawn was _wrong_ for hating her. Willow sure didn't see it that way. After all, she'd almost killed Dawn in that stupid car accident.

Before Buffy could say another word, Willow's hand was on the knob; she turned it and walked into the house. "Hey, Dawn," she called out. She was about to say more but then she looked into the living room where Dawn was sitting on the couch.

With Tara.

Oh.

There were tearstains on Dawn's face.

It looked like Willow wasn't going to have to tell her the truth after all.

She waited for some sort of attack or screaming, but it didn't come, though Dawn looked angry and distraught. What _had_ Tara told her?

"Hi," Tara said softly. "I j-just came to pick up some stuff I left here and…" She didn't finish the sentence; there wasn't much need, was there?

"You guys really aren't getting back together?" Dawn asked, though it was more of an accusation and she glared daggers at Willow now.

"No, they aren't," Buffy interposed. "And before you go jumping to conclusions, Willow isn't using magic. I'm sure Tara told you that, too." A barely perceptible nod from Tara confirmed that and Willow realized she'd been right when she'd praised Tara's virtue to Spike.

"But why…?"

It was Willow's turn and she decided to give Tara something…the only thing she could. "Sometimes, when you break things the way that I did, there's no putting them back together. Tara needs someone she can trust and that isn't me anymore."

"It's not…" Tara seemed about to defend her and Willow boggled at that. Especially given the way their last conversation had ended. Tara was better than she deserved.

"It's okay," she interrupted. "You don't have to sugarcoat things. But thanks." There was so much more she wanted to say, but she couldn't say it right now. Of course all of this did throw a wrench into the second part of her mission – telling Dawn that she was involved with someone else…Spike.

Tara seemed to sense that something more was supposed to be going on and she got up from the sofa and leaned down to pick up a small box. "I better go." The last of her things in hand, Tara headed for the door. "We're still going to the movies next week, right?" she asked Dawn.

The question seemed to perk Dawn up at least a little. "Definitely," she said, adding a glare directed at Willow.

Tara, however, gave her a wistful smile. "It's okay," she said softly. It was forgiveness and absolution and it was everything Willow had fallen in love with once upon a time. "I mean…"

"I know." Leaning close to her as she stood at the door, Willow opened it for her and added, "Thank you."

Another sad smile and then Tara was gone.

Now it was time to tell Dawn the rest of the story. Buffy took her hand, squeezing it, as if she could tell exactly what Willow was thinking right now. She probably could; Willow figured she had fear oozing from every pore.

Dawn was still glaring. Great. _That_ didn't make things any more difficult or anything. Her reflex was to apologize but… For all that Dawn was upset, this wasn't something for which Willow needed to apologize. Ultimately, her relationship with Tara had nothing to do with Dawn. "I guess we should talk," Willow offered, letting go of Buffy's hand but not minding a bit when her friend followed her into the living room.

Her answer was a 'hmmph' sort of sound and Dawn's arms akimbo. Again – wasn't this going just great? Could she please be back in her living room naked getting walked in on by Xander now?

Willow sat down at the other end of the couch. Hey, Dawn didn't get up. That was good. She decided to just cut to the chase. There really wasn't an easy or right way to do this, after all. "Look, I know you're still mad at me – and you have a right to be. I also know you really wanted me to get back together with Tara. But here's the thing, Dawnie. I can't make what I did go away and I'm not getting back together with Tara. That doesn't mean she's out of your life, though. I mean, you heard her when she left. You guys are still friends and that's not gonna change. She still cares about you. It's just not gonna be her and me as a couple anymore, that's all."

"Because she can't trust you?" The question seemed straightforward, but there was an edge in Dawn's voice and a knowing squint to her eyes that made Willow uncomfortably aware that Dawn was more than just a typical teenage girl.

She gave a glance to Buffy, who was standing next to the arm of the sofa and decided to spill the whole truth. "That's part of it," she said, waffling a bit despite her resolve. "But there's also…" She closed her eyes for a second and took a breath. "I'm seeing someone else." 'Seeing'…yeah, guess that's what the kids were calling it these days.

Suddenly, Willow could see the fires of Hell blazing…right there in Dawn's eyes. "Who? Who is she?"

"Umm… It's… The person I'm seeing isn't actually a 'she'. It's… It's Spike."

"Spike?" Dawn's voice rose to a high shriek and Willow fought the urge to cover her ears. Dawn turned her accusing eyes on Buffy. "Did you know?"

"They told me tonight." Buffy's voice was calm even as Willow could see the tension in the hand gripping the arm of the sofa. Buffy was doing everything she could to try and accept the way Spike's feelings had changed and Willow's heart couldn't decided whether to break or burst. Their friendship might have been strained but it was still there…yes, it was, and as strong as ever.

"And you're okay with that?"

The next words were spoken to Dawn, but Buffy's eyes were locked on Willow's "Yes, I am."

"Well I'm not." Arms akimbo again, Dawn was back to being a petulant child. A part of Willow understood that. Dawn's life, her _real_ life, had been short…not just in years but in stability. It made sense that she'd hate change; that she'd want to be able to go to bed at night and know that things would be the same when she awoke in the morning.

Buffy, however, was having none of it. "It's not up to you," she said, her tone clipped and stern. "This is about Willow and Spike."

"But he was in love with _you_," Dawn argued.

"And I _wasn't_ in love with him. I was never going to _be_ in love with him. He's your friend, right?" Dawn nodded. "Don't you want him to be happy?" As she heard the last of those words, Willow's heart finally made its choice…and burst. Maybe Buffy didn't realize it, but she really could feel. She hadn't come back wrong at all.

Dawn said nothing for a minute, but when she spoke, it was to Willow. "Do you love him?" she asked in that same accusatory tone from before.

Willow met her eyes and answered. "I do."

Dawn stared at her for what had to be the longest moment in the history of time. "I'm gonna go do my homework," she said. With that, she got up and went upstairs.

Willow wished she knew how things ultimately stood. Turning and looking at Buffy, she got the feeling she wasn't the only one asking that question.

Tbc…


	25. Chapter 25

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Twenty-Five)

Buffy had offered to walk her back to her parents' place, but Willow had declined, opting instead to trust in her cross, stake, and holy water to get her to her destination safely. Spike was there and forcing her friend to see the two of them together twice in one day felt…well, sadistic, actually. Besides, she wasn't so sure that leaving Dawn alone was a great idea right now. After all, leaving Xander to his own devices had brought a phone call from Giles…who knew what _Dawn_ might do? She wasn't so big on the impulse control – not that Willow felt like she had a whole lot of right to cast stones on that score. Remembering her stupid spells made her shudder with self-loathing. If she had learned to think first and cast later…

Well, it was all for the best, she supposed. A life without magic seemed more prudent. Yearning to be special… Look at Buffy. Being the Chosen One hadn't exactly made her happy, had it?

The door to her own house loomed. Funny how she was starting to think of it as hers again. It seemed like that old saying about home being where the heart was had some truth in it, didn't it?

She stepped into the foyer and was about to carol out to Spike when she saw that he was in the living room. And just like when she'd walked into Buffy's house, she saw that he wasn't alone.

Oh gosh. Xander was here.

Xander stood up and met her eyes as she walked in to join them. "Just having a man-to-vamp talk, that's all," he offered before she even said a word. "There's a few things we needed to clear up before I could approve of this…this you and him thing."

Spike stayed slouched in his chair, but he gave her a slight smirk and Willow couldn't see any visible bruises – plus, he wasn't dust – so it looked like civilization had prevailed. She couldn't restrain herself from breathing a rather obvious sigh of relief… and adding something she hoped put any remaining doubts to rest. "I knew, you know. I mean about…"

"Spike and Buffy?" Willow was amazed at the lack of hesitation as Xander finished her sentence. "Yeah. I know. Spike explained it all… Maybe more than I wanted to know, but he explained everything." He walked over and pulled her into a hug. "I'm not happy with this," he said softly. "He's a soulless demon and he's nowhere near good enough for you. But you love him and he and I talked and… like I said at the shop, I'm willing to believe that he loves you back, so… I'm okay with this. As okay as I can be."

Right at that moment she loved Xander with all her heart. He was trying, really trying, and it meant the world to her. Jesse's face sprang up before her eyes and she knew just what it was costing Xander to give up some of the blind hatred he'd felt for vampires since the moment he'd found out the hard way that they existed – truly existed.

"You're the best," Willow choked out through the lump in her throat.

"The best. That's me." His self-deprecating tone made Willow's heart ache.

"You _are_." She looked straight into his eyes and turned her Resolve Face onto maximum power. No argument allowed and Xander was smart enough not to try. If only he would believe her – even just a little bit.

"Yeah, well, what I need is to be the best at wedding planning," he offered, slightly off-center. Maybe more than slightly. The mood was broken. "I better get back before Anya sits my family next to something that eats people." He and Willow exchanged a look after that last remark. They both knew it wouldn't be such a tragedy, after all, if certain members of the Harris clan actually did disappear down a demon's gullet.

"I'll be at the rehearsal dinner," Willow responded, wanting him to know she'd do everything she could to be there for him – and to keep his wedding from turning into a repeat of her Bat Mitvah.

"Good," Xander said. His hands were twitching and Willow could see the burgeoning 'wedding jitters.' Another hug and the usual goodbye words followed and then he was gone.

It suddenly occurred to her that Spike hadn't uttered a word this entire time. "Are you okay?" she asked, genuinely curious and more than a little concerned.

"Yeah," he replied, getting up at last.

"I was sort of worried. I mean you didn't say anything and…"

"Didn't want to interrupt. 'Sides, there wasn't anything to say, was there? Your boy and I hashed things out. He's still a bloody prat, but…"

"Funny how alike you two are," she japed, enjoying the look of horror on Spike's face. She expected a retort to accompany the disgusted expression, but there was nothing and looking into his eyes showed her that there was a lot going on behind them. It must have been quite a talk. "What did you…?"

"Talk about?" He chuckled softly, but there was no amusement in the sound. "I told him everything. Including how you tumbled to the truth. Have to hand it to him. I thought he might stake me for what went on with the Slayer, but he took it like a man – gave me a chance to explain and all." Seeming to realize that his expression had turned almost admiring at the recollection, she watched in fascination as his features transformed again and he glared at her. Oops. Guess he could see she was hoping this meant he and Xander were friends. "Don't give me that look. I still think he's thick as two planks. Not like this makes us mates or anything. Just think he's been fair is all."

She wondered when he was going to ask about where she'd been and decided not to wait. "I told Dawn."

"Figured that's what you were about. How'd she take it?" There was real apprehension in Spike's eyes; Willow could understand that. Dawn was practically a sister to him.

What she wanted more than anything was to tell him that everything was okay, but she couldn't. All she could do was give him the truth. "I don't know." Spike looked as if he was about to blurt something out, but instead his jaw tightened and he merely nodded for her to tell the whole tale. "Tara was there and she…well, she had already told Dawn about us not being…us anymore. She was great, though. I mean she didn't tell her about you and me and she tried to make excuses for me, but… Dawn was pretty upset and then when I told her about how I was seeing someone else and that it was you…"

Willow took a breath. "But you should have seen the way Buffy stood up for us. She was… She was Buffy, you know?" And if Willow felt insecure when bringing up just how terrific Buffy was, she suppressed those feelings. Because Buffy deserved to be acknowledged and if Willow was any kind of friend then she needed to do the acknowledging. "She told Dawn that she should want you to be happy."

"What did Niblet say to that?"

"She…ummm… she asked if I love you. And I said yes, I do." She paused for a moment, expecting Spike to say something. He didn't, so she finished. "Then she said she had to do her homework and she went upstairs." She fidgeted slightly, nervous hand gestures, before adding. "I'm sorry. I wish I could say that she's totally okay with this. I…" Her hands now flailed uselessly. What could she say? And what was Spike thinking? She wished he'd say something – anything – to let her know if he was mad at her for not making things right.

Seconds later she finally had a response when Spike pulled her into his arms. "You did the best you could, pet. Bit's a stubborn thing." The words were said with a sad fondness.

"I just hope she's not mad at _you_ now. I mean because of you being with me and what I did to her and…"

Spike's finger was at her lips now. "She'll just have to accept that I love you. Yeah, you made some bad choices and I can't deny that you screwed up with the magics, but… She ought to forgive you someday. The way you looked after her when…" He didn't finish the sentence but Willow knew exactly what he meant. "Remember when I told you it's always harder when the good ones go wrong?"

She said nothing and neither did he for some time. All they did was stand there, wrapped in each other's arms. "Wanna see if there's anything good on the telly?" he finally offered.

Willow chuckled and let him lead her to the couch. Maybe things weren't perfect, but no one was dead or dust and hey, Xander was dealing pretty well and Buffy…well, Buffy was close to being Buffy again. Leaning her head against Spike's shoulder, Willow focused on the good and decided to let the bad things be. They'd still be there later if she needed to think about them. For now, she just sighed and watched Spike flip through the channels. He stopped briefly to plant a kiss on top of her head before resuming his relentless pursuit of something watchable.

Yes, there was good stuff to think about.

Tbc…


	26. Chapter 26

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Twenty-Six)

"I can't believe anything could be so horrible," Willow moaned as she and Spike stumbled wearily back into her – technically her parents' – house. "And I thought my Bat Mitzvah was bad." Xander's wedding rehearsal dinner made Willow almost ecstatic that Spike was probably not the marrying kind (well, except when she did that spell).

"Anya must love the prat if she's willing to marry into that family," Spike responded. "Can't believe I've just been to a party where the demons drank the least and behaved the best."

Willow was quick to jump to her best friend's defense. "Xander is _nothing_ like his family." Her voice was stern and hard – harder than she'd meant it to be and she tried to soften the impact with a gentle expression.

Spike still caught the tone – and that turned out not to be a bad thing. "Sorry. You're right, you know. He's nowhere near as awful as that family of his."

While it might seem to some like 'damning with faint praise', the words touched Willow. Xander wasn't the only one who was making an effort. "Thanks," she said, keeping hold of his hand as she flopped onto the couch. Trying to shift the topic, she mused, "I feel so bad for Buffy."

Sitting down beside her, Spike offered a somewhat contrary view. "Gotta hand it to Harris's father, though. It takes stones to vomit in the purse of a Slayer."

Willow giggled. Leave it to Spike to bring a demon's point of view to this disaster.

Of course, he _was_ a demon, wasn't he? And thinking about that brought something else to mind…something she probably should have thought about before now, but something that, come to think of it, she really didn't want to deal with at all.

"Penny for 'em," Spike said and she realized she'd been silent for longer than she'd thought.

"Nothing," she lied.

Just as always, it didn't work. Spike saw through even her smallest fibs. "We both know that's not true, so why don't you just tell me?"

Taking a deep breath, Willow looked into his eyes and said, "I was thinking about your chip," she paused before finishing, "and about magic."

All she could see was the blue of Spike's eyes. "You want to know if I want you to magic the bloody chip out of my head."

She nodded. "Uh huh." Her voice trembled…and so did she.

Spike sighed. "I won't lie. I hate this damn thing. I hate how…" His voice lowered to almost a whisper. "I hate how helpless I am." He took her hand. "But I care about you a damn sight more than getting rid of this chip and I won't ask you to risk using the magics again for me. I won't. So don't you dare think about it. I mean that." He did. She could see it in his eyes.

"Okay," she said, and it was a promise. Again it felt like her heart would burst, knowing that Spike was willing to live with the chip rather than ask her to go back to the most dangerous place in her world – the most dangerous place in her_self_. "I love you," she offered, _apropos_ of nothing…or maybe everything.

"Love you, too," he said.

"I hope you still feel that way after you see me in the dress Anya's making me wear," she grumbled.

Of course Spike stayed serious. "No dress could ever make me love you less, pet." He leaned in and kissed her.

"You haven't seen this dress. You know the colour of Fyarl mucus?"

No answer, just another kiss.

A really slow, lovely kiss.

Mmmm.

Willow found the stress of imminent humiliation melting away under the lips of her lover as she wrapped her arms around him and began kissing him back.

Hands began roaming over bodies and things got more and more heated. Her jaw throbbed painfully just a little bit, but it was nothing she couldn't put up with – not when Spike's hands found their way under her shirt and to her breasts. "Goddess," she breathed when his lips left hers and made their way to her neck.

"Let's take this somewhere comfortable, shall we?" Spike murmured. She couldn't argue. While this couch would always be sentimental to her as the first place they ever made love, it wasn't the comfiest location for sexy fun.

"Okay."

Letting Spike lead her up the stairs, she was surprised when he turned towards her room. "I think it's time we made it ours."

Her eyes were this close to welling up. Spike was right. It was her bedroom, her bed, and she should be sharing it with the man she loved.

So that's where they went.

For a moment, she worried about what a childish kind of place it was but her concerns gave way to different feelings entirely. Spike wasn't wasting any time in getting them right back to where they'd been on the sofa, throwing off his shirt and t-shirt and pulling her back into his arms for another of those 'ow-but-wow' kisses. That was the ticket. It wasn't long at all before Willow was right in the spirit of things, helping him unbutton her blouse and thanking every deity in creation for elastic waist skirts. They were so nice and easy to remove. Now for those pesky buttons on Spike's jeans.

Those buttons didn't take nearly as much work as Willow had feared. Motivation helped, she supposed. At any rate, once her panties and bra had been disposed of – amidst grumbling from Spike about how she really needed to rethink her 'bloody obsession' with wearing underwear – they were both naked.

Her thoughts turned serious again as she looked at her bed. It still seemed strange to be with Spike here. This bed was so much a part of a life in which he'd had no place. For all that she'd had sex in it, it was such an innocent bed. She had felt odd – given who she'd become – when she slept in it _alone_; now she was going to share it with Spike.

"You're mine now," he said and she could tell he had some idea what she was thinking.

"Yes, I am," she agreed. Her voice was somber, but then, this was kind of a somber moment, wasn't it. In a sense, she was about to bury her dead. She'd burned her ticket to Istanbul long ago, but now… She stroked Spike's cheek and kissed him. "I love you so much."

They kissed again and it was passionate and needy again and hands were everywhere and tongues met and the pleasant hardness of teeth… Spike was everything; he really was her everything. They landed on the bed and any thought of taking things as slowly as they had last time flew far away.

This time, Willow took control, rolling them so that she was on top of him. She guided his cock to her center and took him inside, hissing as she could feel the slide of each inch within her body. Her eyes closed and she stayed still for a moment. Their connection… She could feel all of it through her body – the physical and the emotional. It was such an incredible sensation.

Her contemplation didn't last long, though. She was too caught up in their passion for that. Spike's hands found her hips and she began to move. He thrust up to meet her and their rhythm became a fast, burning race. It wasn't long at all before she screamed his name in release and he followed her a moment later.

After that, she lay half atop him, panting and sweating against his cool flesh. "'S so good," she murmured.

"That it was, love," he said softly.

They lay there, enjoying the afterglow. Hey, this time, no one barged in on them.

"You better get some sleep," Spike offered after awhile. "Tomorrow's your boy's big day."

Groaning, she rolled completely off of him and buried her face in a pillow before groaning again at the thought of that godawful dress.

Why did something _always_ ruin their afterglow?

Tbc…


	27. Chapter 27

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Twenty-Seven)

Willow had thought the biggest disaster at this wedding would be the hideous dress she was wearing. It looked like she'd reckoned without the threat of catastrophe they all seemed to carry with them like luggage. "Xander's gone."

Spike stared at her. "What do you mean he's gone?"

"I mean gone like in he's not in any of the places he should be. That kind of gone." Willow was almost hyperventilating. Things were getting tense out in the hall as most of Xander's relatives seemed to have brought their own booze – especially Mr. Harris – and now this. Where could Xander be?

"Calm down, pet. Probably just out getting some air."

"In the rain? He'll ruin his tux. And he looked so good in it."

Spike quirked an eyebrow but he refrained from making a smart remark; he seemed to know that this wasn't exactly a good time for his usual digs at Xander. "I'm sure your boy's just got a bit of pre-wedding jitters, that's all. Did you check the loo?"

"Uh huh," she said, sure that the blush she could feel spreading across her cheeks told the story of her uncomfortable foray into the men's room. It would have been worth it if she'd found Xander, but…

Taking one of her fidgeting hands, Spike seemed to be willing his own calm into her and it worked – at least a little bit. She wasn't twitching anymore. That was something. "I better go look for him some more," she said a few seconds later.

"Good idea. I'll tell the others to stall Demon Girl." Under other circumstances, Spike's stubborn refusal to give an inch and call Anya by her name would have been good for a giggle. Not now. Willow had this horrible feeling of impending doom – Xander's. His life was in danger. Maybe not literally, but there was more to life than breathing.

She gave Spike a quick peck of a kiss and raced off to look for her best friend.

Wouldn't you know it? Spike was sort of right – Xander was outside…in the rain…ruining his tux. "Hey." As greetings went, it was pretty paltry, but at least it got his attention.

"Willow." Xander acted like he'd been caught in the act of… well, of something he shouldn't be doing. Which was true, wasn't it? Because he was supposed to be in the Bison Lodge, surrounded by people he loved (and his family), not out here, surrounded by…no one but Willow.

"The wedding's that way," she offered, pointing back at the Lodge.

"I know," he said softly.

Okay. No games. "I know you know. Which is why I'm kinda wondering…"

"I saw the future," Xander blurted out, interrupting her.

What?

"What?"

Xander's eyes were full of pain as they met hers. "I showed it to myself. I mean, not me now, but me from the future. I came back in time to stop myself from making a terrible mistake and hurting Anya. And I…I mean he… I mean I… I'm right. I become my father, Willow. It was…"

"Bullshit!" she cried. "I don't care what this…whatever or whoever he was who claimed he was you said. You could never, ever become your father!"

There were tears in Xander's eyes. "And there's a bruise on your face hiding under a lot of makeup that says otherwise."

What was she going to say to that? Just because she didn't see it that way at all didn't mean she had the right words to make Xander see the man she saw every time she looked at him. She decided to go in a different direction. "Have we learned nothing from skanky doubles from bizzaro land? How do we know this guy was the real you from the real future? Let's not forget that you're not the first one in town who met someone who claimed to be them but was really evil. I mean, hey, there was a vampire me who wore way too much leather and felt me up – and let me just state for the record that that was easily the most disturbing thing ever. But back to the point, which is that we have no proof whatsoever that this guy who showed you the future showed you the real future or is the real you."

If she'd been hoping her evocation of her vampire doppelganger would turn the tide or at least make Xander smile, she was way off base and she felt like a failure as a friend. There had to be something she could do to keep him from making the biggest mistake of his life. She took his hand and tried again. "Xander, what I'm trying to say is that… Nothing is set in stone. Remember that prophecy? The one that said that the Master would kill Buffy? That was a _prophecy_. It was supposed to be a done deal. But you undid it. You. And you can do the same thing now. You were right the other day, you know – when you said that Buffy and I weren't the only ones with super powers. You have power. You always have. Use it now. Take this stupid future you've been told about and change it – make it what it _should_ be. Because you can. You really, truly can." She had one more thing to say. "After all, you're the one who got it right when you brought Buffy back to life. You're way more powerful than me."

She might have gotten it right this time. She was in Xander's arms now and he was crying into her hair. "Believe me," she kept saying over and over, "please believe me."

"Do you really think…?"

Willow cut him off. "I _know_. Anya loves you…and you know why? Because she sees the same guy I do. The same special, wonderful guy. You just have to look in the mirror and see him, too, that's all. Believe in what we see, Xan. I promise you that we're right. I _promise_. You and Anya can be so happy together. I mean it. You're gonna be the best husband ever…even if your tux is kinda soggy."

It was then that Xander seemed to finally snap out of his doubt and despair. "Oh no. This monkey suit's pretty much toast, isn't it?"

"Yeah, kinda. But on the plus side, so's this dress." Willow giggled and Xander laughed and somehow a deal was sealed. "I love you, Xander."

"Not half as much as I love you," he said. A few seconds later he took her arm. "What do you say we get back to the wedding?"

"Sounds like a super idea to me."

They walked arm in arm back to the Bison Lodge. Right outside the door, Xander stopped and turned to her. "Thanks," he said softly.

"What are friends for?"

There might have been more to say, but the sound of breaking chairs and shouting was a big distraction…and sort of an emergency.

Throwing open the door, Xander strode in and yelled. "Hey! Can we have some reverence here, people? This is a wedding!"

Anya ran to Xander and started to say something, but he shushed her. "Later, okay? Let's get married."

"Okay," she said.

As the unruly and disheveled guests took their seats and the Wedding March began to play, Willow noticed there was a demon corpse in the corner. "Is that...?"

"Nope," Buffy answered before she finished. "Not one of Anya's friends. I'll tell you about it later."

"All right." Willow breathed a sigh of relief. At least the Harrises hadn't killed someone Anya cared about.

She turned and looked at her fellow sufferers in neon green satin and lace. Dawn might be acting a bit cold, but Tara gave her a soft, understanding smile while Buffy squeezed her hand and gave her the thumbs up.

Then there was Spike; he was standing off to the side, looking at her with what seemed a lot like pride.

So all was…well…_well_.Time to do her duties as Best Person. The drama was over for today.

Of course, that was before they heard a noise and looked back at the door.

Buffy gasped. "Oh God!"

Tbc…


	28. Chapter 28

Think Of Me As Your Friend (Chapter Twenty-Eight)

There were gasps from everyone who mattered as they turned to the door.

"Giles!" Buffy was the first one back up the aisle; the music stopped as the rest followed in a mad dash.

"You're here," Xander said, his voice caught between surprise and awe and… This was a lot more like having a father at his wedding than his biological father's presence, Willow knew.

"Yes, I'm here," Giles said, rather unnecessarily. Buffy had tears in her eyes, as did Dawn. Even Anya and Tara seemed incredibly moved by Giles's arrival. Willow had to admit she was pleased as well, even if his return was fraught with emotional turmoil and possible danger to the man she loved. She turned and was surprised to see Spike standing right behind her. She leaned against him, drawing strength from his presence. Guess it wasn't a surprise when Giles gave them a rather pointed stare, though she was glad to see him quickly return to gazing fondly at the others – Xander and Buffy in particular. They were so happy to have him back.

Unfortunately, a loud, impatient voice broke up the reunion. Mr. Harris, naturally. "Hey! When is this wedding getting started?"

"Sorry," Xander said to Giles.

"No need. I had assumed the wedding would be over by now, actually, and…"

"Well it would have been, but Xander almost left me at the altar," Anya interrupted. "Still, everything's all right now because he's here and we're getting married and…" She turned to Xander. "We _are_ getting married, right?"

Xander kissed her cheek. "Yes, we are."

"I was right then. Everything's okay. You love me and everything's okay."

There was something so touching about Anya's insecurity. It made Willow realize just how much Anya truly loved Xander. She'd been right, too. Anya was going to make him happy. Taking her Best Person reins in hand again, she piped up with a hearty, "Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

The Wedding March began playing…again.

* * *

If Willow was learning anything from this wedding reception, she was learning that serving alcohol at these things was a *very* *bad* *idea*. Though the sight of Xander's Aunt Carol with her tongue down the throat of one of Anya's guests - was his name Krevlin? - made Willow think that she might want to break her own rule and down a cocktail or ten.

"Looks like your boy might not be the only Harris shagging a demon tonight, eh?"

Willow's elbow shot out and caught Spike in the ribs. As if she needed to imagine anything worse than that kiss. She whirled around and fixed him with a look of nausea and anguish. "That is so not an image I needed to have in my head."

Spike preened. He seemed awfully chipper. She'd seen him and Dawn having a rather intense conversation a moment ago. Guess he'd managed to patch things up with her. "Told ya I'm evil, pet."

"Yes, you are." Shoot. Willow should have known they wouldn't be able to escape a scolding from Giles today.

"Nice to see you, too, Watcher." Spike's arm was now around her waist and Willow could almost hear the word 'mine.' She wasn't used to his possessiveness yet, but she couldn't say she hated it.

"It was nice of you to be here for Xander's wedding," she offered, hoping that would be enough to keep Giles from unleashing his disapproval on her right now. Yes, the 'rank, arrogant amateur' speech still stung – a lot.

"It was… well, it was quite a singular affair, wasn't it?" Giles was right about that. Not too many wedding vows included the words 'sex poodle'…at least Willow sure hoped not. But then Giles's tone turned serious. "Still…it's…Xander's a married man now and…"

Spike was about to say something – a snide something, no doubt – but Willow cut him off at the pass with a sharp look and he stayed silent; they both did. Giles was clearly lost in memories. Willow found herself getting lost there, too. Where had the little boy who'd consoled her when she broke the yellow crayon gone? How had he turned into the tall, broad-shouldered man standing by the lopsided wedding cake, gazing adoringly into the eyes of his…wife?

"I love you," Spike whispered into her ear and Willow's eyes welled up. Xander wasn't the only lucky one here today, was he?

"I love you, too," she whispered back.

Oops. Guess her whisper wasn't as whispery as Spike's. Now Giles's eyes were focused once more…on them. "I can't say I approve of this at all," he said, clipped and British in that way that always made Willow's throat tighten with anxiety.

"Oh, so it's all right for Harris and even the Slayer to be with demons, but Willow's held to a different standard? That's been the bloody problem all along, hasn't it?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that Willow doesn't get the benefit of the doubt on a bloody thing. And you know as well as I do that you're as much to blame for her goin' overboard on the magics as she is. Not like you were a whole lot of help to her. Wanted her to use 'em when it suited you and then not when it didn't. That doesn't amount to guidance, does it?"

Willow stared. She wasn't sure she would apportion that much blame to Giles – she was a grown woman who should have had more self-control, not to mention sense, after all – but it was touching that Spike was so ready to defend her.

He wasn't done yet, either. "As for her falling for a demon… Your Slayer was head over round heels for the poorest excuse for a demon ever created and Xander Harris just _married_ one. And don't start up with that bollocks about souls. I've heard all I can stomach on that from Buffy-bloody-Summers. It's nonsense and you know it. I loved Dru more than most men with souls have ever loved anyone…and I love Willow more than I ever loved Dru."

A small voice came from behind them. "He does, Giles. He really does." Oh goddess.

"Buffy," Giles and Willow said in unison.

"Figured a neutral party ought to be heard from here."

Neutral? Oh no. Willow had forgotten to tell her that Giles sort of knew about her having sex with Spike. Here's hoping the subject didn't come up until she and Spike were…

"I... I'm rather surprised at your approval of this considering your… recent history with Spike."

…safely away.

Great. There went that hope. With Giles polishing his glasses as he finished his sentence, there was no chance Buffy would think he was referring to the days of Spike's unrequited crush.

Indeed, Buffy's expression of wide-eyed horror proved she hadn't missed the innuendo. "You…you…uh…"

"I know, yes. There seems to have been quite a lot going on while I've been gone that… Buffy," he stopped for a moment, "both of you, will you ever forgive me?" Huh? "I… I realize that I shouldn't have left the way I did. At the time I thought it would help you but… I see now that I was wrong and that my sudden abandonment did more harm than good and…" Willow watched as Giles's words were halted by a sudden armful of tearful Slayer.

It was a reunion Buffy desperately needed and if Willow felt that it had cut short a necessary confrontation with the man she'd once thought of as her mentor, she couldn't begrudge Buffy a bit of it. Giles, after all, was the truest father Buffy had ever known, the man who could fix the damage Willow had done with her well-meant but ill-starred resurrection.

She turned to Spike and gave him a wistful smile as he took her hand and led her towards the door. Xander and Anya were about to leave, too, and anyway, Willow wasn't about to risk eating any cake ordered by a woman who'd offered her a choice between wearing blood larvae and burlap or neon green satin. "It's gonna be all right, pet," Spike said softly. "Rupert'll come 'round, you'll see. Anyway, the whelp's life's all squared away, the Slayer's got her Watcher, Bit's starting to see some sense…and you've got me."

"You're right," Willow replied with tears in her eyes. "I've got you." Suddenly, she felt like the luckiest girl in the room. "I love you, Spike."

"Love you, Willow."

Scratch the part about the room. She was the luckiest girl in the world.

The End


End file.
